


Not Left To Stand Alone Side Side Stories

by Lisa_Telramor



Series: Magic Kaito Neighbors Future AU [2]
Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Injury Recovery, Kuroba Kaito/Hakuba Saguru - Freeform, Occasional swearing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Suggestive Themes, Teenagers, implied Kuroba Chikage/Vermouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-04-14 12:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 88,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Telramor/pseuds/Lisa_Telramor
Summary: Bits and pieces of other POVs throughout NLTSA, scenes without a place, etc.





	1. In Which Takumi Doesn't Know What To Do With Hakuba Saguru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to EverThePhantom for the comment that sparked me writing this ^_^
> 
> This covers from the first chapter up to around chapter 9 in Takumi's POV

“Try it one more time,” Tou-san said, guiding Takumi’s hands through the motions slowly before stepping back.

Takumi shuffled the cards a moment to get a feel for them and put his head in the right place before moving through a complex sequence of movements that allowed him to palm select cards and move them to key points in the deck. He flipped the top card over—Ace of clubs, just like he intended. Tou-san grinned, ruffling his hair. “Tou-san,” Takumi complained, pushing him away. He was smiling too though. He’d been trying to get that right all night. “I think I’m finally getting the hang of that one.”

“You think? You’ve got it down. Now the next step—”

Rapid pounding on the door. Takumi winced, looking at the clocks. Late. He knew it was getting later, but he’d just wanted to get a bit more done...

“That would be your mother,” Tou-san muttered under his breath. “Okay, guess that’s all we’re getting done today.”

“Open the damn door!” Kaa-san yelled from outside. Well, there went airing their life to the neighbors again. “Takumi was due back two hours ago! Don’t make me get Tou-san!”

Blah. Takumi gathered up his deck of cards. “Kaa-san, just a minute! We lost track of time!”

“Don’t give me that. You say that every week but you both know when you’re supposed to be home. It’s not the weekend, Takumi!”

No, it was just the last day of his spring break. Tou-san caught him in a half hug.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispered. “We can work on the rest of the trick more later. In the meantime...” He dropped a few capsules into Takumi’s hand. “Confetti bombs,” he said with a slow wink. “To start out high school with a bit of fun.”

Takumi tucked them into his pocket. Kaa-san would kill him if he used them in class, but they’d be perfect for his ongoing prank war with Shiemi. This year he’d get her for sure—they were finally in the same building again and that meant he had a chance to booby-trap her shoe locker. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Really.”

Takumi snickered, gathering up his stuff. Kaa-san was still waiting. Shoes on, open the door—she was still lecturing—and that was a neighbor watching, wow that was embarrassing.

“—your responsibility if he stops by after class,” Kaa-san said, still going strong.

Tou-san sighed behind him, leaning on the door. “Maa, Aoko...” Takumi felt him tense up and saw him staring at the neighbor.

“Don’t you Aoko me, Kaito, I—what’s wrong?” It took her a second longer, but she looked too and they were all staring at some half-foreigner butting in on their private life. “Ha...kuba?” Kaa-san asked.

The foreigner seemed to realize he was gaping at them because he shut his mouth. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Then he shut the door.

Takumi looked between his parents and the neighboring apartment. Did they know that guy?

“Well that was unexpected,” Tou-san muttered.

Kaa-san shook herself and glared at Tou-san. All back to normal. Ugh. Takumi moved for the stairs as Kaa-san hissed something to Tou-san and it was probably just the usual ‘pay attention to the time, don’t corrupt our son, why do I have to interact with you every week?’ sort of thing and he’d heard more than enough of that over the years. It was only a bit after eight o’clock. So it was dark out now, so what? He pulled the cards back out, trying out the movements again, but it wasn’t the same without Tou-san giving tips. He loved his mother, really he did, but she consistently had the worst timing.

Kaa-san caught up with him before he could finish a second run through of the card exercise. She had the ‘I’m done with the world’ look on her face so he followed without a word as she marched down the stairs.

“Why do you have to do this all the time?” She said hallway down. “You know the time. It’s not like you can’t read a clock.”

“I know...” It wasn’t like he always meant to do it. This time though... “I just wanted to spend a bit more time. I was learning a new card trick.” More petulantly, he added, “You’re not even back home until after my curfew. And it’s the last day of spring break, I wanted to make the most of it.”

“You know I need to know where you are. What if you weren’t at Kaito’s?”

“I text you if I’m going to be somewhere else...” Sometimes he really envied Shiemi. _Her_ mom didn’t give her a curfew and make her text where she went all the time. Kaa-san was practically paranoid and she had been for years. She used to have to walk him places when he was in elementary school like he couldn’t just walk with friends and be fine. ...Blah, but she loved him and he loved her, so he never could get too angry about it. It just got frustrating because it always led to reasons to get him back home away from Tou-san. “You know I could have gone to school from there. It’s the same distance as home from school.”

“Nice try,” Kaa-san said, “but your uniform is at home.”

And if his uniform was at the apartment, she’d still come up with some other reason. He scowled at cracks in the pavement. Everything always led back to her and Tou-san fighting. At least Tou-san was fun. Guilt followed that thought, familiar and seeping through him because Kaa-san worked hard and raised him and Tou-san could get away with doing fun things because he didn’t take anything seriously half the time. It was Kaa-san who had the important job, Kaa-san working on the police force and trying to keep people safe and catch Kid, and Kaa-san who read his stories every night growing up no matter how tired she was and always sent him off to school with a healthy lunch and breakfast. Guilt was an unpleasant, squirmy feeling and he hated how it always wormed in between all his other feelings like a sticky mess.

He latched onto the oddity of the night, anything to shove that mess of emotions away again. “So, who was that back there?”

“Hm?” Kaa-san glanced back at him, her scowl smoothing away. “Oh, that was an old classmate from high school.”

Takumi waited for more. And waited. As usual she wasn’t letting anything spill about high school. “A friend?” he prompted.

Kaa-san snorted. “Friend? Well, he wasn’t not a friend, I guess. I’d have liked to be friends, but he kept to himself unless it involved Kai—” She stopped, cleared her throat. Of course. “He was a detective that transferred to chase after Kid. He stayed for a little over a year and left.”

A little over a year...a year he’d have known Kaa-san and Tou-san...

“He asked me out once,” Kaa-san said, sounding distracted, “but I don’t think he really meant it.”

Scratch being a friend, this was someone who actively got involved in his parents’ relationship. Did Kaa-san turn him down? Did Tou-san get angry? Were they even dating at that point? And wouldn’t chasing Kid make Kaa-san like this guy more?

“So he transferred to chase Kid...?” Takumi asked.

Kaa-san gave him a Look, like she did every time he brought up Kid instead of her and Takumi winced internally because oops, wrong topic to focus on. “He did. It’s not important now though. That was a long time ago.”

“Do you think he’s back to chase Kid again?”

She frowned so deeply, Takumi almost felt bad for this mysterious guy. Almost. Mostly he was kind of jealous which was stupid because he was jealous of some guy for happening to know his parents. It wasn’t like he felt like that toward Keiko-ba-san.

“He better not be,” Kaa-san said finally. “Well, hopefully it’s not anything that will affect you. He’s just someone I knew a long time ago and he might not be that person anymore by now.”

“Right...” And the topic would never be brought up again, of course.

It was a familiar bitterness that had him dragging his feet again. He bet Tou-san would tell him something even if it would be some empty anecdote about how the foreigner had a weird way of sharpening pencils or something equally avoiding anything he actually wanted to know.

By the time he went to bed that night, he had a thousand questions, no answers, and a mild dislike for this new stranger already.

***

Takumi was halfway through sneaking a confetti bomb into Shiemi’s locker when she snuck up on him and scared him first.

Her hand smacked into his back with a loud slap. “Wow, you’re going to have to try a heck of a lot harder than that to prank me.”

“Gah!” Ow. “How did you even get here so fast?”

“One, I didn’t need to figure out where my own locker was. Two, I’m a second year. You firsties take longer to leave the opening ceremonies. And three, you think I wouldn’t check my shoe locker for traps immediately? Shame on you.”

Urgh, he should have expected that. Of course she wouldn’t think he’d given up on their pranks just because they went to different schools for a year. They pranked each other enough on their free time after all. “So you were lying in wait?”

“Yup!” She grinned. She always looked kind of like she was going to kill something when she smiled like that, her braids jutting forward like ram horns kind of adding to that impression. Takumi pitied the person who ever thought they could get away with trying to mess with her. She’d pop up where they least expected like some kind of sadistic demon that specialized in mind games. “So, you’re joining the literature club.”

“What? I’m joining lacrosse.”

“You promised you’d join the literature club with me.”

“That was before I started getting serious about sports, Shiemi.”

“Literature club only has real meetings once a week.”

“Lacrosse meets pretty much every day.”

“Correction; they meet every day but Thursdays and Sundays.” Shiemi pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “So...if I change the discussion days to Thursdays, you can come.”

“Do you even have the power to do that?”

“Takumi, do you think I would be in a club for a year and not be ruling it from the shadows?”

Fair point. And he had made a promise. It wasn’t like he hated reading or anything and it would be an excuse to spend time with Shiemi in school... “Fine, I’ll make sure to sign up.”

“Ha! Great!” She gave him a side hug that had some students looking in their direction. There were going to be rumors later he was sure. Hello start of high school.

“Get to class, lovebirds!” someone called. Takumi was pretty sure it was Jin from Shiemi’s middle school class and Jin was an ass.

“Get to class yourself!” Shiemi called after him. “And no offense, but I’m way out of Takumi’s league.” She tossed her head dramatically before elbowing Takumi. “This is where you debate that.”

“Why would I? You are way out of my league.” Her face twitched toward a smile and he finished with, “And sorry, but you’re too old for me.”

“You shit, I’m half a year older than you!”

“So ancient. How horrible,” Takumi said, laughing as she tried to catch him in a headlock. Wow he’d missed hanging out with Shiemi in the mornings.

The bell sounded, letting them know they had to get to their classroom, and Takumi broke away.

“We’ll settle this later, Kuroba!” Shiemi said, mock threatening.

“Back at you, Momoi!”

Everything was fine until he stepped into his classroom. Then there was the same foreigner from last night, standing at the front of the room, and Takumi realized he was a teacher. Not just a teacher, but the _homeroom teacher_. His good mood plummeted.

The guy—did Kaa-san say his name? Hakuba?—was old enough to be going gray a bit and had a cane that he must need to get around since he was using it to stand. He was hard to get any kind of read on, which was the most annoying thing of all. He looked at Takumi and there was that awkward moment of recognition there, but he didn’t say a word about it. No nod, no embarrassment about last night, nothing. Not even surprise. Takumi stared, and then the teacher was staring back. Was that a challenge?

Takumi wasn’t normally a confrontational person, but he kind of wanted to confront something at the moment. Who was this guy? The more he talked and didn’t react to being stared at—the whole class was staring though they were just the usual curious—the more it annoyed him. Takumi couldn’t put his finger on what exactly he didn’t like about Hakuba, but there was something. Maybe it was the crisp, formal way he spoke or how something in his posture screamed upper-class even though he was just a teacher. Maybe it was his mother’s voice saying ‘he asked me out once’ that bothered him in the back of his mind.

Either way, it made him want to do something. To wipe the bland, professional expression off his face and get an emotional response like his surprise yesterday. Takumi rolled one of the confetti bombs between his fingers. He wasn’t supposed to use them in class but...

Tou-san would approve. But Tou-san did stupid things sometimes. Kaa-san would be pissed. But it would kind of be worth it.

He waited until partway through class when Hakuba was distracted with the lecture to set the bomb off. His classmates reacted with the expected surprised shrieks and laughter. Hakuba didn’t react at all, just brushed off the confetti and gave a lecture on how his disciplinary system worked. Then he met Takumi’s eyes and Takumi _knew_ that Hakuba knew he was the one who did it. Of course he did; Tou-san was a prankster in school and he’d have experienced it firsthand. He’d know anything Takumi pulled from Tou-san’s book.

Hakuba made him read out loud, as close to calling him out for the prank as he could get without proof. That cemented the seed of dislike. After that, Takumi decided he might just follow in Tou-san’s footsteps a bit more after all.

***

“I don’t like him,” Takumi muttered, sprawled out on Shiemi’s floor.

“Who?” Shiemi was on her bed, absently shuffling cards.

“My homeroom teacher.”

“Hm.” The cards stopped. “He’s the one that replaced Yumi-sensei, right?”

“I think so. He knew my parents.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Takumi propped himself up on an elbow. “He’s just so... Rgh. I don’t even know. I’ve had two classes with him and he just bothers me for some reason.”

“Well, I did hear he’s kind of a hard ass. But so far it sounds like he’s not a jerk according to class rumors.” Shiemi tapped the deck of cards on her palm. “If he’s Yumi-sensei’s replacement he might end up the literature club advisor too.”

“Great, one more place for him to pop up.”

“One more place to try to figure him out,” Shiemi corrected. “You’re curious, right? About what he knew about your parents?”

“Well...yeah, I guess.” It was more than idle curiosity. It was closer to a need; he needed to know what they were like. He just didn’t like that it would come from some stranger if he learned anything at all. “I pranked him.”

“You did?” Shiemi glance his way, too knowing in a way that made him uncomfortable. She’d probably already heard through her rumor mill. “And?”

“I’m going to prank him again.”

“Not what I meant, but okay. That will probably remind him of your dad and how he reacts could give insight about what he thinks about Kuroba-ji.”

“Considering he barely reacted at all, maybe he looks down on him.”

“Or he’s a teacher trying to keep a level head for his class,” Shiemi said drily. “Pranks aren’t going to be able to get you into his headspace. You have to actually think.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Who knew where that guy was coming from? Maye Takumi could get more information out of Tou-san later. “He was a detective who went after Kid once according to Kaa-san. But she cut off when she started to mention Tou-san.”

“Ooh, bet Hakuba-sensei and Kuroba-ji hated each other. Kid’s fanboy meet teen detective.”

“Probably.” Maybe that was all that had been, Kaa-san not wanting to go into Kid related things like usual, not her Tou-san related issues at all. Or maybe the two of them combined? He was probably overthinking this. “He’s Tou-san’s neighbor, this is going to be so weird.”

“You never know. Could be a chance to finally get your parents to open up.”

“Mm.” Or get stories from another source. But Hakuba would have to give some kind of sign he wasn’t an asshole first. “He totally knew I set off the confetti bomb. Then he made me read in front of everyone.”

“Embarrassing, but really, who else would a confetti bomb have been?”

“Point...” Takumi shook his head. Enough of his problems. “So, how’d asking your crush out go? You said you were gonna do it before the end of break.”

“Bad,” Shiemi said. “So bad. I think I lost a friend bad.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. On a lighter note, guess that means she really wasn’t worthy of my heart. There’s a whole big world out there for me to find someone else in.”

“Good luck with that.” She was brave to try, Takumi thought. If he ever liked someone, he wasn’t sure he’d have the guts to do it.

“I make my own luck,” Shiemi said. She sat up. “So. Want help coming up with prank ideas?”

“Sure.” That was more fun than staring at the ceiling complaining about their lives. A great distraction from their troubles too.

***

“So,” Takumi said after the literature club and its advisor had cleared out. “Hostile much?”

“I thought you’d appreciate the solidarity,” Shiemi said. She was still shuffling her deck of cards absently, the sharp expression faded from her face now that there was just the two of them.

“Impressions?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “I can see why he bothers you. Hard guy to get a read on and serious. But.” She stopped shuffling. “Not as much of a hard ass as he first appears I think. One, he didn’t call me out on my aggression. Two, he totally played along with our rules—not half bad at poker either. Three, well, you saw how he reacted when I insulted Holmes.” She grinned. “He’s a total dorky Holmes otaku under that...whatever it is. Is it offensive to say British-ness? Is that racist? Er, some...other ism?”

Takumi shrugged. “Reserve?”

“Sure, go with that.” She shrugged again. “Anyway, as far as advisors go, I think we could have done worse. It seems like he wants to be involved and he clearly knows some decent range of literature even if it skews toward old-fashioned taste. That will mesh great with some of the members, and he might even make discussions more interesting if he takes it serious. And given his personality, he’ll take it serious. As far as how he fits with your parents? Who knows, inconclusive data.”

Takumi slumped.

“Sorry, but you got to give me more to work with. I can quiz your dad on him if you want, see where he stands in all this.”

“Pretty sure I have an idea of that,” Takumi mumbled.

“Try speaking clearly,” Shiemi said, poking Takumi in the side. He didn’t even try to evade it.

“I said, I think I have an idea,” he repeated louder. “Tou-san mentioned him like, three times in the last week. I’ve only been over there twice. Shiemi, you know Tou-san maybe talks about Miyuki-san at work. Sometimes. He doesn’t talk about people he knows. But he’s talking about Hakuba-sensei.”

“So...they’re maybe friends?”

“I don’t know!” He threw his hands up and flopped back on an unused desk. “It’s like he’s invading my life.”

“A little dramatic,” Shiemi said, “but okay.”

“He lives next door. It’s weird.” Takumi knew he was whining and probably making a fool of himself in the process, but it was Shiemi. She wasn’t going to judge him for it. She’d seen him cry. Heck she’d made him cry with her terrifying doll collection on more than one occasion, it wasn’t like he had anything resembling dignity with her.

Shiemi sighed. “I’ll chat up Kuroba-ji, see what I can learn. If he talks at all that’s something you know?”

“Yeah.” Shiemi never had any better time getting his parents to talk about the past than Takumi. “I still want to get him to react.”

“Pull out the big pranks?”

“Yeah. I think I have an idea.”

“Your funeral.”

Takumi halfheartedly kicked in her direction. Shiemi laughed at him before shoving the fanned out deck of cards in his face.

“Pick a card, Takumi.”

“Ugh, no, I’m done with cards for the day.”

“Nope, you have to pick a card. Then you have to make sure I did the trick right.”

“You can probably do it better than I can,” Takumi grumbled. Still, he picked a card.

***

“So I’m grounded for the week, got lectured by both parents, and have extra homework,” Takumi reported over the phone.

Shiemi cradled her phone between her chin and shoulder, finishing up painting her nails dark, sparkling blue for the hell of it. “Yeah, I heard you busted out that makeup prank. Rumor also has it that Hakuba-sensei has nerves of steel and barely even blinked.”

“Oh my god, Shiemi, what do you have to do to get a reaction from this guy?! He looked more surprised running into us at the grocery store than he did getting a face-full of makeup.”

Shiemi grinned to herself. Takumi was probably working himself into a state on the other end. He didn’t do it in public, but get him alone with someone he was comfortable with? It was always kind of funny to watch his face get red with emotion and his reserve get tossed out the window. “You know, he _did_ go to school with Kruoba-ji. If your parents have shared anything about their high school days, it’s that Kuroba-ji was the biggest class disruption our high school has ever seen. Hakuba-sensei probably expects anything you throw at him because he’s lived through it all.”

“Gah, that just makes it that much more annoying!” There was a rustling sound and a whump—Takumi tossing himself on his bed probably. “Kaa-san says I have to do the extra work. English is hard, help me, Shiemi.”

“It’s your punishment you dork. You knew what you were getting into.”

“I thought I’d, I don’t know, have to scrub toilets or write lines or something. Who foists off English homework as a punishment?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, an _English teacher?_ ”

“Ha ha. So funny.” He sighed. “On the plus side, Tou-san said he was impressed that I got the prank to work. After the lecture of course.”

“Of course.”

“Nowhere near his level, but it’s something I guess. ...he asked why I did it though. I didn’t know what to tell him.”

“That Hakuba-sensei annoys you?” Shiemi capped her nail polish, fingers now sparkly and dark like some sort of witch. New aesthetic, mental note to see if she could get some thrift store finds cheap to build on that.

“I panicked when Hakuba-sensei asked and said it was because he was different.”

“Wow. That doesn’t make you sound like an asshole or anything.” Considering Takumi was someone on the fringes of a bunch of different social groups and only close friends with a couple people, he could be considered ‘different.’ Shiemi was definitely ‘different’ so of all the stupid things to blurt out... “On the other hand, it’s not wrong, it’s just ‘different’ makes you think of the obvious physical traits Hakuba-sensei has. But when you say ‘different’...”

“It’s because he’s different than the rest of the people in my life, yeah. Tou-san was...not happy.”

“I’ll bet.” Kuroba-ji wasn’t the best parent sometimes—Shiemi loved the man, but objectively speaking, he made a better crazy-fun uncle than a father. But he tried, and he had always tried to be a good role model in how they interacted with people. Takumi’s answer had to be irritating the heck out of him.

“At least he wasn’t a hypocrite telling me I wasn’t allowed to pull pranks ever again. Kaa-san yelled about disrupting class and stuff and I _know_ she used to disrupt class with Tou-san. I mean, Tou-san said she used to chase him with a mop once, how is that not disruptive? Even outside of class, that’s disruptive and damages school property? I’m not damaging any school property at least.”

“So back to small pranks?”

“Yeah. Ugh, you sure you can’t help me with my homework?”

“I have my own work to do. You can handle an extra worksheet. You’re not that bad at English.”

“You’re better at it.”

“And you’re better at athletics and science; tough shit.”

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh. Go do your work you dork. Next time don’t get caught.”

“Night, Shiemi.”

“Night.” Shiemi tossed her phone to the side with a snort of laughter. The things they got involved in. She kind of wondered what Kuroba-ji thought of it all. He was friends—had to be friends, Kuroba-ji mentioned sharing dinner with Hakuba-sensei and he was the most extroverted recluse ever—with Hakuba-sensei. So would he be on Hakuba’s side or Takumi’s with all of this? Eh, probably Hakuba’s since he was an adult. If Kuroba-ji was someone you could talk to, maybe he’d be on Takumi’s but he was like that. Deflective and pushing away even while he tried to draw you in close. He was the closest to a father figure Shiemi had, but she could see his flaws easily enough.

So busy being the ‘fun’ parent that when he did try to be an authority figure it didn’t really work too well. Not that she could blame him. He really did try to do family bonding as much as possible. He was great and showed Takumi all sorts of new things and taught her and Takumi how to do magic tricks and he loved them both, she knew. But Kuroba-ji wore masks and didn’t share how he really felt. When Aoko-basan got angry at him, he just shut down, locked everything away. Shiemi didn’t think she’d ever seen him actually angry. Annoyed, yes. Worried. Not angry, never angry no matter how much Aoko-basan yelled or if Takumi was in one of his moods and decided to be a brat or if some stranger was rude.

She’d seen Aoko-basan and Takumi display every emotion known to man more or less. It was a little weird how little Kuroba-ji showed sometimes. Takumi picked up that habit at some point, wearing masks in public. So did Shiemi too, but where Takumi’s masks were mild-mannered, Shiemi’s were confidence and control.

Maybe that was how it worked for Hakuba too, a professional mask or reserve...

She still didn’t know what to make of Kuroba-ji getting along with him so quickly. He’d asked how students and teachers reacted to Hakuba. The same way he asked about Takumi’s life and Shiemi’s own. Like it mattered and he cared. It was weird.

The only other adult he asked that sort of thing about was...Aoko-basan.

Huh.

A possible theory was starting to pull together. She still needed a bit more data before she could form a hypothesis on what was going on with Hakuba-sensei and Kuroba-ji. Her instincts were usually pretty good with this sort of thing though.

_Interesting._

***

Takumi hadn’t exactly forgot that Hakuba was coming for a home visit, but it had slipped his mind what day. He was texting with Yuuto about an anime when the doorbell rang.

“Takumi, go get that!”

“Yeah, yeah!” He set the phone down. Kaa-san had been cleaning the kitchen ever since dinner ended. She usually left cleaning to weekends, and left other weekly chores to him during the week, but he wasn’t complaining about not doing dishes for once.

Takumi remembered the home visit all at once when he glimpsed who it was through the door. Great.

“Good evening,” Hakuba said, all stiff and awkward. Takumi’d seen him relax during literature club, he could tell the difference now. He was uncomfortable. He should be because this was awkward as heck for Takumi too.

He had to let him into his home. “Come in.”

Hakuba’s eyes were flicking all over, taking in everything and who the hell knew what he was getting from it. There was a moment where it looked like he had a bit of trouble getting his shoes off to put on guest slippers. Takumi’d kind of forgotten the whole bum leg thing; it was the kind of thing you tuned out after a while because most of the time Hakuba didn’t draw attention to it when he was teaching.

Takumi looked away. “Kaa-san, Hakuba-sensei’s here.” He was not sticking around to sit in a room while his mother and teacher exchanged small talk. Or talked about him. Nope. Not happening. He skipped upstairs, hearing them talk back and forth. It sounded friendly enough. He paused at the top of the stairs. Wait, there was a chance they’d talk about the past right? Should he listen for the small possibility that he’d hear something interesting? Worth the awkward or not?

He chewed on his lip for a moment before sending a quick text to Yuuto telling him he’d talk more later.

Takumi knew exactly which steps creaked worst, so at least it was easy enough to get back downstairs again without anyone hearing.

Awkward small talk, jeeze, did Hakuba ever socialize or did he just not know how to interact with Takumi’s mom? And right into school talk... He winced at the frank opinion of his English skills. Yeah, he wasn’t the greatest with English, he knew he had a lot to work on with grammar... And why were they comparing him to Shiemi?

And then his mother started talking about how they didn’t really talk anymore and...Takumi shifted, full of guilt. Hakuba was encouraging her, but the fact that he needed to felt like Takumi had messed up somewhere. Things hadn’t been...that bad lately, had they? Yeah, Kaa-san worked more and they didn’t always eat together some days, and yeah, he’d been spending more time with Shiemi or Yuuto or over at Tou-san’s place rather than come home to an empty house...

“He’s a good kid,” Hakuba said and what did he have to base that off of? Some pranks in a classroom and a couple glimpses into Takumi’s home life. Why was he being so...so nice about it? He didn’t sound like the pranks bothered him or impacted his judgment at all. Was it because he talked to Tou-san all the time or was he just that blind to Takumi being an ass specifically to him?

Takumi tuned back in as Hakuba’s voice went sharp.

“The apology is appreciated but...”

“It’s too soon to think about,” Kaa-san finished, sounding like she understood whatever he was referring to.

“A year isn’t much compared to twelve years.”

There was tense silence in the next room and for the life of him Takumi wasn’t sure what had set it off. One second they were both on the same page, Hakuba sympathizing with Takumi’s mother, then...this. He shifted, wondering if he could get a peek around the corner to get a better idea about what was going on.

His mother said something, too low to make out the words, but the tone was apologetic.

“I make things worse on myself,” Hakuba said, and there was a sound of a chair scraping back, like they were getting up, Hakuba probably planning on leaving since there wasn’t much more to say about school.

Takumi moved back up the stairs, unwilling to quite go back to his room just yet.

“Do you see Kaito often?” Kaa-san asked as they passed into the hallway.

“We’re neighbors,” Hakuba said, a non-answer if Takumi ever heard one. They did see each other often; Tou-san bringing him up and what Shiemi mentioned meant they had to, so why didn’t he want to answer that?

Hakuba’s eyes met his for a brief second as he put on his shoes and exchanged parting pleasantries with Kaa-san in the entryway, but he didn’t say anything about Takumi watching or address him in his goodbye.

Kaa-san stood in front of the door after in closed for a long moment, shoulders slumped and looking almost old. She sighed and locked the door with a decisive click before turning around. She jumped when she saw Takumi on the stairs.

“Oh. I didn’t hear you there.” She smiled and it didn’t reach her eyes.

Takumi went down the stairs and offered her a hug. She looked surprised. Dang, had it been that long since he gave her a hug just because? Now he felt even guiltier. Kaa-san hugged back tight.

“So,” Takumi said, “any glaring complaints about my school performance?”

“No,” Kaa-san said. “Surprisingly. You could participate a bit more. Prank less.”

“I know,” Takumi said. Pranking Hakuba wasn’t really as satisfying as it originally had been. The class reaction was still pretty nice but... He’d lay off for a while. Maybe. He was missing some sort of information about what was going on anyway. If he paid attention, maybe he’d figure it out.

Kaa-san pulled back. “It’s been a long day. What do you feel about watching a movie tonight?”

Takumi blinked, smiling slowly. Kaa-san not working from home for an evening? “Yeah. Can I choose the movie?”

“Nothing scary,” Kaa-san said. “I’ll get snacks.”

Takumi ran to get his laptop. Guilt and visit worth it if it meant spending some time doing something fun with Kaa-san for once.

***

Hours after class, after practice, after making his way home, Takumi still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Hakuba. He said he’d talk about Takumi’s parents. He wasn’t angry about the pranks at all. He’d _pranked_ Takumi right back. The trick pen was a bit too heavy now that Takumi was paying attention to it. He tapped the clicker on top and got a tiny jolt to his finger just like earlier. What the heck.

Ok, maybe Hakuba wasn’t quite as much of a hard ass as first impressions made him out to be. Or as boring. Takumi had to wonder what sort of pranks his teacher was capable of. Probably not too big of ones if his idea of a prank was a trick pen. Still. He’d been a detective once and had attended Kid heists, and they’d apparently been pretty wild from the tiny bit he’d mentioned. Kaa-san glossed over everything. What she did mention pointed to a very different atmosphere at heists than one that would lead to Hakuba in a dress. He’d have to see if there were any good stories his teacher would be willing to share.

Shiemi was going to be surprised when Takumi told her about this. Then again, she seemed to have warmed up to the guy a lot more lately. Maybe because he took part in the lit club talks. Or maybe whatever she’d gotten from Tou-san on him. She hadn’t really shared much of how that went. Just that they were friends.

He was still kind of conflicted. On one hand, Hakuba still was squeezing into his family’s life little by little and that was...weird. Different. It was weird to think of Tou-san having a friend. On the other...well, it might be nice to talk. That Hakuba would be willing to talk. That left him with a thousand questions that might actually get answered. Where did he start? Well, no there was one question he really wanted an answer to...

Takumi grimaced. Probably still wouldn’t get an answer to because Hakuba hadn’t exactly been around when his parents got a divorce.

He’d thought a lot after the home visit. How Kaa-san was sad after the talk. How Hakuba had looked sad when he left, and how he was living in crappy tiny apartments just like Tou-san. How Takumi didn’t really know anything about the situation of any of the things going on. He knew Hakuba used to be a detective and wasn’t now. He knew he had a bad leg but didn’t back when his parents knew him. He knew his parents had been in love once but weren’t now, or what love was left was too broken to be fixed. He knew that something bad must have happened to all of them for things to end up this way. What happened with his parents happened all but overnight, hazy memories of happy mornings in the new house, now Kaa-san’s house, turning into confusing tense ones all at once before Tou-san was gone back to Obaasan’s house. Hearing his parents fight when they thought he wasn’t listening when they only used to pretend to before. Something happened to all of them, and Takumi didn’t know what. But maybe Hakuba did, and maybe learning more about him or from him would clear up Takumi’s mysteries.

Maybe the way the bad thing affected Hakuba, it made it easier to get along with Tou-san and less easy to get along with Kaa-san. Or maybe it was the other way around, his parents’ issues leading to how they approached Hakuba. Who knew?  All Takumi knew was that he’d probably been a bit too quick to pick a fight even if it had been satisfying in the moment.

He pulled up a message to Shiemi, then changed his mind and connected a call. “Hey, got time to talk?”


	2. Dinner With the Kurobas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saguru has dinner with Kaito and Takumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set right after chapter 13.

 

Cooking with Kuroba was...different. As Saguru chopped a growing pile of vegetables and Kuroba put on rice and sliced meat to cook, he couldn’t help comparing it to cooking with Mel. Mel had more of a tendency to shoo Saguru off to the side and take over with micromanaging tendencies in the kitchen though. Kuroba didn’t seem to care that Saguru’s knife skills were less than perfect so long as everything got chopped in more or less similar sizes.

“So you cook,” Saguru said, as Kuroba began mixing up a sauce to go over the meal they were making.

“Obviously,” Kuroba said. “I don’t cook a lot because I’m on the go all the time—easier to just grab something while I’m out—but I’ve lived on my own for years. I’ve been cooking since I was in middle school whenever Kaa-chan took trips. You can cook too.”

“Poorly. Enough to survive off of.” Saguru finished slicing the last of the vegetables as Kuroba tossed the meat into hot oil, using long cooking chopsticks to keep it moving and cooking evenly. “Nothing special.”

“Cooking’s not your thing then?”

“No, that was always Mel’s thing,” Saguru said. Kuroba made an enquiring hum, reaching over to take Saguru’s cutting board and add the vegetables to the mix. Saguru watched, reminded of all the times he’d seen Mel wielding a wooden spoon with similar focus. “He liked to plan meals and try new things and I was always the boring one who would just make a roast and have it for the week if left to my own devices.”

“By roast, do you mean you just cooked a plain slab of meat and ate it?”

“Essentially, yes. Usually you cook it with carrots or potatoes and cabbage.”

Kuroba gave Saguru a flat look. “No offense but that sounds bland as hell.”

Saguru chuckled. “Yes, well, that’s traditional British cooking for you. Bland, and steamed, roasted or boiled. I can cook more than just sticking meat in the oven or boiling pasta.”

“I’d hope so. You wouldn’t have much variety otherwise.” Kuroba flicked his wrist, tossing the pan’s contents around a bit before adding the sauce. It hissed, bubbling and boiling quickly into a thick, sticky coating. “Set the table for me? There’s plates in that cupboard, cups in the one next to it, and chopsticks in the drawer to the right of the sink. I can handle the rice bowls.”

Saguru set the table diligently, putting Kuroba’s generic dishware with its simple floral pattern on the table at three places.

Kuroba was just filling bowls with rice as Saguru put glasses of water around the table when the front door opened. Takumi’s greeting carried in before he was even through the door. “Welcome back,” Kuroba called, filling the last bowl. “Hakuba’s joining us for dinner.”

“Hakuba-sensei?” Takumi poked his head around the entryway. He had his lacrosse uniform still on and a heavy sports bag over one shoulder, which he set down next to the pile of shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it might be nice to have company,” Kuroba said cheerfully. “How was practice?”

“Fine. I think I’ll make an alternate this year if I can get my aim just a little better. Or if someone gets injured.” Takumi scrunched his nose. “Which hopefully won’t happen.” He wandered over to the sink to wash his hands, giving Saguru a tiny nod like he wasn’t sure what the polite thing to do was when a teacher was unexpectedly in his home. They’d shared tea and stories often enough that it wasn’t too awkward though. “Kei-kun and Mirai-senpai said they’d help me work on some techniques next week though so I can be ready for the summer tournaments.”

“You’ll have to give me a list of game dates. I’ll try to make a few over the summer.”

“Sure. Oh, and I have a group report in History, so I have to meet up tomorrow with a few classmates. It shouldn’t take too long though, so we can still work on the thing with the doves you wanted to show me. It’ll just have to be in the evening.”

“I’ll make plans to have dinner at Obaa-san’s house then.”

Kuroba and Takumi moved around each other with the ease of people who shared a kitchen space frequently. Takumi even grabbed the last rice bowl to take to the table in the absentminded sort of way of habit, used to helping set the table then. Saguru felt a little out of place. He didn’t know where to sit, and surely the Kurobas had their preferred places.

Takumi solved that problem, plopping into the chair at the setting missing its rice, and Kuroba sat on the other side. It left Saguru sitting next to Kuroba.

Takumi took one look at the stir fry with the thin sliced pork stir fried in it and gave Kuroba a glowing smile. “I am so hungry after practice and this so beats the usual Friday night combini meal.”

“I’m not that bad am I?” Kuroba asked.

“About cooking?” Takumi picked up his chopsticks. “You save your cooking energy for Saturday, but nine times out of ten, Friday ends up a convenience store meal. I don’t mind, but you made ginger pork stir fry. This is great.”

“I really can and do cook,” Kuroba said, giving Saguru a serious look that almost hid the glimmer of humor in his eyes. “You’d think I only ever feed him onigiri and takeaway.”

“You’re a good cook, but Kaa-san’s tonkatsu still beats yours,” Takumi said. “Now can we please eat? I just spent more than an hour running around with a stick. I am starving.”

“We should make him wait,” Kuroba said in a loud whisper to Saguru. Takumi gave his father a betrayed look.

Saguru rolled his eyes. “As the guest, I think we should eat.”

“If you say so. Itadakimasu!” Kuroba said, cheerfully clapping his hands together. He didn’t let on that his ribs were bruised at all, not when cooking and not now as he leaned over to dish out food. It was both impressive and unnerving, because it left the question of if Saguru had missed other injuries in the past just because Kuroba was that good of an actor.

Takumi echoed Kuroba and dug into his food the second his plate was filled. Saguru took his time in comparison as Kuroba launched into an explanation of his current work project, his coworker’s lives, and various neighborhood gossip between bites of food, all unprompted. Takumi threw in a question here or there that showed he was both listening and knew who Kuroba was talking about. Saguru let the chatter wash over him, content to listen. It was a bit like family meals when he and Mel used to visit Mum, only with less pointed comments in his direction to engage him in the conversation. It used to exasperate them whenever Saguru sat back and listened; they could never quite get that sometimes he just liked to watch two people he cared deeply about interacting. It was a little different now, of course, more seeing sides to Kuroba and Takumi he hadn’t seen before, but the feeling was similar.

It was a bit of a bittersweet feeling in that similarity... Saguru turned his attention to his plate, pushing that emotion away.

“—Hakuba-sensei?” Takumi’s voice registered.

Saguru glanced up and found both Kurobas looking at him, heads tilted to the side like mirror images. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I just asked how your day went,” Takumi said. “You had Mai-chan and Hanasaki-san from class C get into an argument in your last English class, right?”

“Yes.” The day was a haze, all caught up in worry but that had happened. “To be honest it barely interrupted the class. I sent them in the hall and kept teaching.”

“...Wouldn’t they just keep arguing in the hall?” Takumi asked.

“So long as they weren’t being a disruption, I could have cared less at that moment.”

Takumi snorted. “I can half picture it—no wonder people in class C weren’t sure what to think of it. Usually you stop, give a warning or something and mark your book, and start back up again. Aren’t teachers supposed to care when that kind of thing happens?”

“Everyone has off days. Honestly, I couldn’t be less interested in knowing who was angry at whom over some romantic interest that likely has no interest in either of them.”

“Hakuba, you mean to say you ignore the gossip mill?” Kuroba said, mock-scandalized.

“I hear it whether I want to or not,” Saguru said drily, “so no, I suppose I do not ignore it.”

“Teachers follow the gossip mill?” Takumi asked.

“Of course. Teachers gossip just as much as their student body.”

“More, if half of what I hear is true,” Kuroba said, amused.

Saguru bet he meant Erika. Their old homeroom teacher had to be one of Kuroba’s sources. Saguru was still trying to figure out all of them, but he supposed Takumi could possibly count as another.

“I’ve been in that gossip,” Takumi said with a deeply uncomfortable expression. “What do they think of me? Holy crap, I just realized teachers might talk about me when I’m not there.”

“And students talk about their teachers all the time,” Saguru said, wondering how on earth this could be news.

“ _They know about my life_ and they might _talk about it_.” Takumi sat back in his chair like he was having a revelation. Saguru exchanged a glance with Kuroba. Kuroba looked far too amused. “That is extremely weird, especially because I know almost nothing about my teachers. Except for you, Hakuba-sensei.”

“That is normal. We’re at school to do our jobs and be professional. You’re at school to learn and be yourselves.”

“But you’re people.”

“Yes.”

“Of course you’re people, ignore that.” He waved a hand, erasing his words in a gesture. “I know teachers have outside lives, but I’ve never really thought about it. What do they do at the end of the day? What do they do in their free time? Why do they willingly teach the mess that is high school, I mean... _why?_ ”

Saguru couldn’t help laughing. “You know, it’s not much different from our students. We go home, deal with homework, and sometimes we even see friends or do things that might be considered fun by the majority of the population.” Saguru took a sip of water and added, “Although as to why, I can’t say with full certainty that all teachers aren’t somewhat drawn to things that will give them headaches. Or at least that’s true in my case.”

Kuroba laughed at that, catching his eye and no doubt thinking of Saguru’s old habit of pitting himself against Kid despite never truly gaining the upper hand. “You’re all a little bit masochistic?” There was a teasing lilt to that that had a blush crawling across Saguru’s cheeks before he could fully control his reaction. Kuroba looked terribly smug, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Takumi’s face scrunched in disgust. “Ew. No. Stop and don’t even bring that word up.”

“I didn’t say they _are_ masochists just that they have a trend toward—”

“No.” Takumi jabbed his chopsticks in Kuroba’s direction. “I’m going to need brain bleach.”

Saguru cleared his throat, pushing the blush down. “More honestly, I like seeing people grow into their potential,” Saguru offered, nudging the conversation back to a safe track. “High school is where interests are being discovered and dreams take first steps.”

“Huh.” Takumi glanced at Saguru and away again just as fast. “Makes sense I guess.”

“You always did look for the good sides in people,” Kuroba said.

“I feel like nostalgia gives me too much credit; I liked understanding, but whether or not I empathized with them was an entirely different story.” He hadn’t exactly been empathetic toward Kuroba’s situation back then, at least not at first. Saguru finished the last of his food. Kuroba was a decent cook. It was certainly better than anything Saguru had made since moving to Japan. “Thank you for the meal.”

“You don’t want more?” Kuroba had the rice paddle in hand, ready to scoop out more if Saguru wanted, but Saguru declined the offer with a shake of his head.

“I’m full.” Both Kurobas looked at him like they thought he should eat more. Kuroba added another scoop of rice to his own bowl, perhaps trying to prove some convoluted point. Or maybe he was just still hungry. Not everything was a mind game to be read into. “I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“You barely ate enough then,” Kuroba said, “considering how much running around you did.”

“I don’t do much running at all now, so I don’t need seconds.” Takumi’s eyes flicked toward Saguru’s cane and away. Kuroba just kept up eye contact until Saguru rolled his eyes and held out his rice bowl. “Fine, but not much. I really am full.” Feeding people had to be a thing with Kuroba. Between the random gifts of food and how he seemed to enjoy seasonal food items to their fullest, food had some meaning in Kuroba’s personal interactions. Saguru could eat a bit more if it made Kuroba stop giving him a look that resembled some of the looks he’d gotten from his mother in the last year. “I do feed myself on a regular basis, Kuroba.”

“You make one meal for the week and pack sandwiches and salads for lunches,” Kuroba said.

“It’s efficient.”

“It’s boring. You don’t even order out.”

“It cuts costs to prepare your own food.”

“Since when is money an issue?”

Kuroba had him there, it really wasn’t an issue. “It’s financially responsible.”

“It’s bo-ring,” Kuroba repeated. “And you can’t be getting all your vitamins and minerals when you eat pasta for a week straight.”

Saguru chose to be the adult here and ignore him instead of continuing a pointless argument. Even if it was Kuroba teasing him. He could see that smirk twitching at the corner of Kuroba’s lips. Saguru finished the extra rice with pointed silence.

Takumi helped himself to thirds.

“So, while Takumi’s doing the dishes—” Kuroba said.

“Hey!”

“—want to pick out a game for after dinner?” Kuroba finished.

“Nothing with playing cards,” Saguru said instantly. “I’m sure both of you cheat.”

“I don’t cheat,” Takumi protested. Kuroba snorted. Takumi kicked at him under the table, clearly missing and hitting the table leg by the way all the dishes rattled. “Well, I only cheat against Tou-san because otherwise he’d never lose. It’s a survival strategy.”

“I only cheat against you half the time. You just have bad luck with cards.”

“Yours isn’t the greatest either, or were you dealing Kaa-san good hands that time I convinced her to play poker with us and Baa-chan?”

“Point,” Kuroba said. “Aoko’s luck trumps all of ours. So, Hakuba, stay for a game?”

Saguru glanced at Takumi, but he didn’t seem to mind the thought of playing a game with Saguru if his open interest was anything to go by. There wasn’t much waiting for him back in his apartment. He set down his chopsticks, meal finished. “I’ll stay.”

“Great! Come look at the game selection.”

“Nothing that will take all night,” Takumi said, rolling his eyes at Kuroba gleefully directing Saguru to a shelf with games stacked on it.

“Well that rules out a few.”

There were a good number of games, most of which Saguru had never heard of, ranging from what appeared to be adventure games, to card games, to games that required constructing things. It was no surprise to find something like Jenga with Kuroba’s steady hands, but he had to raise an eyebrow at some of them. “Too Many Cinderellas?”

“It’s fun. You try to convince the prince who Cinderella is, and sometimes it gets pretty ridiculous,” Kuroba said, content to let Saguru make the game choice.

Saguru kept looking. There were a few foreign games in the mix, like Monopoly and—Saguru’s eye caught on a familiar box. “How about Cluedo?”

Kuroba snorted. “You’re so predictable.”

“Just because it’s a mystery game doesn’t mean I’m predictable.”

“No?” Kuroba teased. “Then you just happen to choose one of the only mystery games in the mix by chance?”

“It’s one I recognize and enjoy,” Saguru defended, pulling the box free.

“Did you know there’s a Kaito Kid version that was made locally?” Kaito said in a lower voice. “The point of the game is to figure out who is actually Kid and how the target was stolen.”

“Sounds like a fun and thematically appropriate game. We should play it sometime.”

Kuroba grinned. “Thought you’d say that. Sadly I don’t own it. Kaa-san does though. Maybe I’ll borrow it and drag her into playing a game with us.”

“Somehow I’m sure you’ll still manage to cheat. Or automatically end up as Kid.”

“Haha, very funny.” Kaito snatched the box from Saguru and cleared a space on the coffee table for the board. “Just for that, you get to be Mr. Green.”

“What’s wrong with Mr. Green?”

“Nothing. That’s the joke.”

Saguru looked at him blankly. This was the classic version of the game so Green was a conniving priest, and he honestly couldn’t see the connection.

“...You’ve never seen the movie based on the game have you?” Kuroba said after a moment.

“There’s a movie?”

“We,” Kuroba said with mock seriousness, “definitely need to have a movie night some night, because if you enjoy the game and ridiculous eighties American films, it will be right up your alley.”

“Another time then,” Saguru said. He wouldn’t mind the chance to watch a movie with Kuroba at any rate. Although he wouldn’t have thought an American comedic film would be Kuroba’s choice, but what did Saguru know?

“So you’re choosing Clue?” Takumi said, dishes washed and set in the strainer. “How stereotypical, Hakuba-sensei.”

“I know, right?” Kuroba snickered.

Saguru rolled his eyes and let them have their fun.

“It’s a fun game though,” Takumi continued. “Hakuba-sensei gets to shuffle and deal out the cards.”

“Don’t trust me?” Kuroba said.

“Nope. You’re the one who taught Shiemi and me to cheat after all.”

“I’m hurt,” Kuroba said with exaggerated dramatics. He draped himself back along the couch, one hand over his eyes. It was all very amusing until Saguru remembered that Kuroba actually was hurt, and then it was a bit worrisome, but Kuroba popped back up again when the act didn’t get him a reaction. Not too hurt to play around at least. “No defending my name, Hakuba? Some friend you are.”

“You want me to lie?” Saguru asked, deadpan. “I’m not sure my detective sensibilities will allow it.”

Kuroba and Takumi both snorted at the same time. Takumi looked away, red faced and trying not to laugh even as he seemed to find the humor embarrassing. Saguru took the chance to snag the cards.

“Let’s play to learn who killed Mr. Boddy, shall we?”

“Professor Plum, in the study with the candlestick,” Kuroba said under his breath.

Saguru was going to make sure Kuroba lost, he decided. Just because. It didn’t matter whether Saguru or Takumi won, just that Kuroba lost a game for once. “In that case be Plum.”

“Nope, I call Mrs. White.”

“...The maid.”

“Yup.”

“I’m Scarlet,” Takumi said. When both adults glanced at him, he shrugged. “I like red.”

Scarlet brought a few too many memories of Koizumi Akako to mind for Saguru’s peace of mind. “Well let’s play then.”

Cards went into the file for the eventual reveal, and the rest were doled out.

Kuroba, it seemed, was the type to take the ‘jump around the board and confuse what is really being searched for’ sort of strategist. Saguru was more methodical, and Takumi was somewhere in between their styles. Saguru was somewhat convinced that both Kurobas were substituting loaded dice at one point, but he had yet to see them trade off and honestly they might just have good enough control to get the die to land on high numbers.

Kuroba had to dramatically act out each time he made an accusation. It took a few times for Saguru to realize he was imitating detectives he knew each time, though when he made up precise times and methodology in an imitation of Saguru’s reveal method, it was abundantly clear what he was doing. It was both irritating and amusing at the same time, and the game was the most fun Saguru had in a while. No pressure, just simple challenge of trying to out-think someone else.

Takumi won in the end. It was Saguru and Kuroba’s fault for getting too involved in trying to throw each other off that they half forgot about the other player in the game.

Takumi gave them both an exasperated look as he said, “Mrs. White, in the ballroom with a revolver, now will you please stop smirking at each other?” He opened the envelope and fanned out the cards to reveal that he was right.

“I guess you were the killer after all, Kuroba,” Saguru said.

“Damn, and I was between White and Mustard.” Kuroba tossed down his cards.

“I had Mustard the entire time, I was trying to figure out whether anyone had the pipe, rope, or revolver.”

“You both have tunnel vision and shouldn’t be allowed to play games against each other,” Takumi said. “Tou-san clearly kept guessing the rope because he already had it. Now I’m going to go to bed because I asked for a game that wouldn’t take all night and you both dragged the game on forever.” He had his hands on his hips like he was the adult in the situation and it was spoiled a bit by how he kept forcing himself not to smile. “Goodnight, Hakuba-sensei,” Takumi said. “It was...pretty nice having you over for dinner.”

“Thank you both for the hospitality.”

“Stop being so formal all the time,” Kuroba said.

“It’s called being _polite_. You should try it.”

“Goodnight,” Takumi repeated, exasperated. Saguru could hear him mutter something about acting the wrong ages as he wandered off to his bedroom.

When Saguru glanced at Kuroba, Kuroba looked...happy. Content, like he couldn’t imagine a better way to end the day and all was right with the world. To a lesser extent, Saguru found that he felt similarly at peace. Tonight was the most he’d laughed in...well, in a long time. A long, long time.

“Kuroba,” Saguru said softly, unwilling to break the moment by speaking louder. “Thank you. Truly.”

“Anytime, Hakuba,” Kuroba said. He smiled, maybe the truest smile Saguru had seen on his face in the whole of their acquaintance. “Anytime.”

That smile made Saguru want to commit it to memory, dissect every detail of its features and hoard it close with other similarly precious moments. He probably had an equally open expression at the moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about what Kuroba might or might not take from an unguarded and happy moment. Let Kuroba see him relaxed along with all the rest of Saguru’s myriad of emotions.

It was Kuroba who looked away first. “We’ll still have to watch that movie sometime.”

“Of course.”

“And maybe do this again. Dinner. And a game.”

“I would like that.”

“Good.”

That would be the ideal moment to leave, probably. Saguru didn’t really want to go just yet, but the clock on the wall matched the digital one blinking next to the TV, both showing almost nine.

Saguru reached for his cane. “Goodnight, Kuroba.”

“Night, Hakuba,” Kuroba said. He busied himself in picking up the Cluedo pieces, shuffling them about. “See you maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Saguru echoed agreeably before letting himself out. It wasn’t like either of them had to go far if they wanted to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone wondered, the 1980's Clue movie is right up my sense of humor's alley. Apparently I love cheesy stories and humor with witty one-liners. This explains my enjoyment of The Mummy and Atlantis too. >_> Also, there is a Detective Conan version of Clue in existence and I find that amusing and wonderful. You play as detectives trying to figure out who the murderer is instead of being among the lineup of possible murderers. If it existed in English, I'd play it in a heartbeat.
> 
> Thanks to EverThePhantom for wondering how this meal would go.


	3. Hiroto Has a Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to post these every other day until they're back on track to the timeline of the main story.   
> Takes place after chapter 14. After the date at any rate, but not long after

 

Less than a week after his first date, Hiroto was still walking on air. He couldn’t help sending happy, random texts whenever the thought occurred to him. So far it didn’t seem like Saguru minded. It didn’t really bother Hiroto that he got replies on every third or fourth text, and he didn’t care that he was always the one initiating conversations; he was getting responses and he’d been on a date that hadn’t been a train wreck! He was sending one such text now, too caught up in describing the ragtag group of cats he’d snapped a photo of to notice that his lights were on until after he’d closed his front door behind him.

“Oh-ho!” Emi’s voice said from near the kitchen just as he started to wonder if he’d forgotten to turn the lights off this morning. “Look at that sappy smile.” Her head poked around the corner, grinning as she watched him. “I take it Saturday’s date went well?”

“Emi!” This was hardly the first time she’d shown up out of nowhere, and wouldn’t be the last. He’d given her a spare key ages ago, and he had one to her apartment; it was just the sort of friends they were. She also happened to be the only person in his social circle to know that he liked men, and had been following his accounts of dating disasters with vicarious, somewhat sadistic, relish. “Warn me when you break into my apartment.”

“Not breaking in if I have a key,” she joked, waving him over. She’d made herself at home with one of the beers from his fridge. She pulled out another and handed it to him. “So, spill. Tell me all the nitty gritty details.”

“Give me five seconds to relax a bit first!” Hiroto laughed, loosening his tie and abandoning his briefcase for the beer. His suit jacket went over the back of the chair and he started to feel a bit more human.

“Relaxed yet?”

“Fine, fine!” He slumped in his chair, smiling at her eagerly leaning half over the table corner in expectant attention. “If you couldn’t already tell, the date went great.”

“No, really, your smile means it went down in flaming chunks of embarrassment. No shit.” Emi flapped her hand. “Who is he, what’s he like, details man!”

“Well, his name is Saguru and he’s a high school teacher.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Bet that’s gonna play in some fantasies.”

“Don’t tease!” Hiroto blushed, but he was laughing too. He sipped at his beer. “He’s pretty serious, but he’s got a dry sense of humor. Nice, obviously, since he didn’t laugh in my face at how awkward I was the first time we met. Which was at a bar since I know you’re going to ask that too. But then I ran into him at the museum later, and he agreed to a date then.”

“Ooh, so he likes the arts.” Emi rested her chin on a hand, crouched up on her chair by this point to lean close. It made her look a bit like an over-eager puppy when she did that, but Hiroto found it too amusing to ever say anything about it.

“Yeah, he does. So a check in my book, right? He also didn’t mind going to a hole in the wall for a first date, so he’s not pretentious or anything.”

“What else?”

“He’s a little older than me I think? I’m not sure.” Hiroto shrugged. Older, younger, he wasn’t too picky about that. “Still don’t know much other than that about him, though we had some really nice conversations about random things like people watching and houseplants.”

Emi narrowed her eyes. “Okay, so far he sounds better than some of the assholes you’ve gone out with.”

Fair enough. If he hadn’t been rejected outright, there was the guy who got handsy ten minutes into the date (Hiroto hadn’t bothered remembering his name to be honest), Tanada who had turned out to be married and using a fake name which Hiroto found out halfway through a date when his wife showed up, and Taro who was the only person Hiroto had been on two dates on, and who had thought he was entitled more than Hiroto was comfortable giving just because Hiroto had agreed to a second date.

“Please tell me you at least know this guy’s full name.”

Hiroto grimaced.

“Uuuugh,” Emi groaned, flopping on the table before glaring at him. “And you gave him your full name didn’t you?”

“Ha…ha…” Yes. Yes he had. “I forgot to ask for his full name.”

“Well ask for it.” She sniffed. “You’re too trusting sometimes.”

It wasn’t exactly wrong, but… “I like to think I’ve at least learned something from the failed attempts.”

“And get too attached too quick,” Emi continued ignoring his comment.

Hiroto pretended not to hear her in turn. She rolled her eyes.

“Mm-hmm, can’t really deny that.” She waved a hand again, returning back to the topic at hand. “So is he hot?”

Hiroto blushed. “Yes.”

Emi wiggled her eyebrows. “How hot?”

“Hot as in taller than me, nice shoulders, half-foreigner with really nice hair kind of hot.”

“Tell me you have a picture.” She held out a hand, demanding, and Hiroto rolled his eyes.

“I do, I do, just…” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his photos. He blushed when he reached the picture of Saguru. It left a little bit of a guilty feeling in his stomach because he’d taken it when Saguru wasn’t looking. It was right before he walked over to meet up, just Saguru sitting on a bench looking out at people. It wasn’t even that good of a picture objectively speaking, but… Yeah, Emi was right about him becoming attached too quickly. He enlarged the picture so only Saguru filled the screen and passed the phone over.

Emi’s eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit, when you said Saguru I didn’t think you meant _Hakuba Saguru_.”

The full name meant nothing to him. “What, is he famous or something?” The idea seemed ridiculous. Saguru was an English teacher—or at least that’s what he’d said and Hiroto believed him. But Hiroto had believed that Tanada was actually Tanada so…

“Kind of? Well, no, he used to be.” Emi looked up and Hiroto was surprised to find her cheeks pink. She didn’t get embarrassed by anything. “He used to be a hotshot international detective when he was in high school. I know because I was kind of a fangirl. Don’t laugh.”

Hiroto tipped his head to the side. Yeah, he could see Emi obsessing over a boy around her age in the media spotlight pretty easily. “I wouldn’t laugh.”

“Anyway.” She cleared her throat, face still pink. “Wow he looks older. And a cane? Wonder if that’s why he dropped off the map, or maybe he just retired. But holy shit, you went on a date with _Hakuba Saguru_ , the man on record for coming closest to catching Kid up until Nakamori Aoko actually had him in custody for ten minutes three years ago.”

“Oh, so he was on the Kid task force?” Hiroto leaned to look at the picture with her. Somehow he couldn’t see it. Saguru didn’t look the type to chase after a thief with the single minded determination that Hiroto had seen either of the Nakamori inspectors display on TV. He did have a pretty intense stare but… Hiroto blushed, chasing away recollections of the moments Saguru’s full attention and interest had been focused in his direction. A _very_ intense stare.

“Yeah. I mean him getting on was probably half nepotism, because no matter how good the detective you’re not going to get a high schooler not officially affiliated with the police assigned to a police group without it, but no one could really say Hakuba didn’t have the skill to back it up.” She zoomed in further on Saguru’s face. “You lucky shit. I had fantasies involving this guy when I was in high school. Figures he’d turn out to be gay.”

“It was one date, Emi.”

“Hiro, you lived teen me’s dreams. Tell me he kissed you at the end of the date?”

Hiroto felt the tiniest bit smug. “Well, _I_ kissed _him_ at the end of the date and he wasn’t complaining.”

“All the dreams. I’m just going to live vicariously through you.”

He laughed. Hiroto held a hand out and she returned the phone to him.

“But really,” Emi said, sitting a bit more naturally now that she’d gotten some information, “what happened? He drops out of the public sphere, gains a bum leg, and returns to Japan as a teacher of all things almost a decade and a half later.”

“Who knows?” Hiroto shrugged.

Emi sighed explosively. “You need more curiosity. You not digging is going to get you screwed over again.”

“Or it could piss him off, and I’d be lost one nice, hot guy in my life.” Hiroto took a large swallow of beer and lounged back in his chair. “Besides, you’re the reporter; you have more than enough curiosity for both of us.”

“Point.”

Emi looked at his now dark phone like she wanted to snatch it up again and start digging, but instead she fetched herself another beer from his fridge.

“So, since I’ll be here all night, you can walk me through the whole date, start to finish, and I can tell you what I think, ok?”

Hiroto laughed. “Yes, ma’am!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were expecting a Kid fan. I raise you one with a SAGURU fan. ^___^ But nah, Hiroto's a ball of optimism and hope.


	4. A Peek At Saguru's Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fits somewhere in chapter 14 or 15, but definitely before chapter 16

Hiroto: What’s your favorite color?

Saguru: …why?

Hiroto: Because I want to know! It’s one of those ‘getting to know you’ things. Mine’s dark blue. Now you.

Saguru: Green

Hiroto: Green green or light green or olive or…?

Saguru: Spring green

Hiroto: Huh. Okay. Would have thought it would be golden brown or beige since you only seem to wear earth tones.

Saguru: You’ve only seen me three times.

Hiroto: And you wore brown, khaki, and plain white shirts.

Saguru: What does my wardrobe have to do with my favorite color?

Hiroto: …never mind. Change of topic! How was your day?

*

Hiroto: jpg file

               Friendly cat! :D

Hiroto: jpg file

               Don’t feed pigeons. Ever.

Hiroto: jpg file

               Red tie or green?

Saguru: Green, obviously. But I am biased.

Hiroto: Green tie it is :)

*

Hiroto: Help! What do you know about children?!

Saguru: I’m a high school teacher. What age of child are you asking about?

Hiroto: I don’t know! He can walk and speak in a full sentence! But not reach door handles!

Saguru: Why do you have a child?

Hiroto: My boss brought his son to work but had a surprise meeting. He told me to watch him.

Saguru: Why you?

Hiroto: I was on hand? I don’t know!! ;__; Help, I know nothing about children.

Hiroto: jpg file

               He keeps staring…

Hiroto: what if he needs to use the bathroom?

Hiroto: do I just sti hereor?

Saguru: Calm down. Breathe.

Saguru: Are you breathing?

Hiroto: Yes.

Saguru: Do you have blank paper and some colored pens? Drawing should keep him entertained for however long the meeting lasts. At the very least it will give you time to think of something else.

Hiroto: You’re a lifesaver! ;_;

*

Kuroba: I picked up your shopping list when I was getting mine. I left everything in your fridge. Don’t worry, I didn’t touch anything while I was there. ;)

Saguru: You say that and now I am worried.

*

*beep* Saguru? Love, you have to start carrying your phone. What’s the point of having it if you never answer? Anyway, your father and I have tickets to see _Hamlet._ I’ve never seen it performed in Japanese… We have another ticket if you’d like to join us. If not, we understand… Call me back tonight, Love. And for heaven’s sake, turn your ringer up. *beep*

*

Hiroto: Another day of rain. Almost makes it worth being stuck in the office.

Hiroto: Quick, what’s a good place to get authentic French food at?

Hiroto: Nvm. Coworker knew a place.

Hiroto: Just noticed a crack in the paint on the ceiling. Wondering if it has always been there or if it just appeared.

Saguru: How do you get any work done?

Hiroto: Multitasking and spurts of extreme productivity.

*

Hiroto: How was your day?

Saguru: Quiet, except for Kuroba dropping in with takeaway. He didn’t even stay to eat. He barged in talking on the phone, set down gyouza and left.

Hiroto: That was nice of him???

Saguru: It was, but I have no idea why.

Hiroto: On the bright side, free gyouza.

*

Hiroto: jpg file

               Out of coffee. The world shall burn.

*

*beep* Hey, Hakuba, if you go home and find a dove still in your room, I had to move her there because the landlord had to come fix my sink and I couldn’t let her be seen. I would’ve taken her with me but she’s got a bad wing and doesn’t need to be stuck in my clothes all day. I’ll clean up any messes she might make. If she’s not there when you get home, pretend you never got this message. *beep*

*

Aoko: Hakuba-san, I’m sorry to hear that Takumi pulled another prank in your class. I will personally make sure he does his extra homework by tomorrow.

Saguru: Thank you, Aoko-san, though the apology isn’t necessary. There isn’t any animosity going on anymore and the prank was in good taste.

Aoko: He’s still going to do the worksheet tonight.

Saguru: Of course, Aoko-san.

*

*beep* Hakuba-san, this is Tanaka. If you’re able can you cover some of Umeda-sensei’s third year English classes? She has the flu and can’t make it today. Please call back soon. *beep*

*

Saguru: I don’t think I will ever understand what goes on in my students’ heads.

Hiroto: !!! You messaged me first this time!

Saguru: Yes?

Hiroto: You’ve never messaged me first before!!

Hiroto: You were thinking of me!!

Saguru: I’m starting to get used to text conversations. Please calm down.

Hiroto: D:< I can get excited if I want to.

Saguru: …Fine. Go back to being excited. I don’t think I’m ever going to understand you either.

Hiroto: But you’re trying to right? ^_^ ~*

Saguru: Despite the fact that I surround myself with people who confuse me, yes.

Hiroto: You’d get bored otherwise.

Saguru: Most likely.

Hiroto: ^____^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiroto's the type to use emoticons constantly. ...This is a trait we share >_> For all the jpg files Hiroto sent I technically did sketches, but I never went back and finished them so...it is what it is I suppose ^_^; Maybe one day they'll see the light of day.


	5. A Question of Sexuality and Surrounding Topics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time after chapter 11, but before chapter 16

Takumi’s legs swung as he talked. His lacrosse gear sat to one side of Saguru’s desk, and he was as relaxed as Saguru had ever seen him. It seemed that once the air was cleared between them, and Saguru had been open to Takumi in return, whatever barrier that had kept Takumi distant and impersonal had vanished. It was a bit of a surprise to be sought out, like now, long past when Saguru would ordinarily have left due to an unexpected increase in workload, but he wasn’t complaining. It was nice getting to know Takumi better, not just through Kuroba’s point of view. He didn’t mind that Saguru sometimes gave half his attention to work either. And in return, Saguru would relate past events for high school that Takumi’s parents had been involved in.

Now, Takumi was talking about Momoi, a fond smile on his face. “She’s always been so confident. Even when we were kids, she’d be charging in and I’d be the one following along with whatever idea she had. Not that I’m not confident, but she’d kind of on another level.” He talked with his hands when he was feeling strongly, Saguru noted, his expansive gestures not unlike Kuroba’s inability to keep his hands still. “There was one time when we accidentally got backstage at a theater and no one even questioned why we were there because she acted like she belonged there. I can’t even remember why we were there in the first place, but we ended up on the catwalk and scared the heck out of our parents. Meanwhile, we got a lesson in stage lights rather than getting kicked out.”

“That sounds like an adventure. Most light board operators would be worried a child would want to press all the buttons and switches.”

Takumi laughed. “Yeah, there was a little worry about that I think, but we both knew better than to touch random buttons. I mean, Tou-san has his equipment and we’d learned the hard way that pressing buttons isn’t really a good idea.” He waved a hand making a sound reminiscent of Kuroba’s smoke machine. “Scared us bad back then, but it was at least harmless.”

Considering some of the things he’d seen Kuroba use over the years? He hoped it had only been a smoke machine. He could only imagine if two children got their hands on one of the knockout gas pellets or the razor cards.

“Sometimes I wish I had that level of confidence. I can fake it but nine times out of ten she actually means it and can back it up. I think it’s the sheer stubbornness that makes it work for her.”

“And a quick mind to back that up,” Saguru said. She could certainly count cards with the best of them. There was one thing he was curious about though… “You two are very close, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Takumi smiled to himself. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

…There wasn’t going to be a way to make this less awkward to ask but… “You two aren’t…romantically interested in each other are you?” They didn’t seem to be, but then Saguru couldn’t help picturing Kuroba when he looked at Takumi, and he couldn’t help but worry that another childhood friendship turned romance would end badly for all involved…

Takumi blinked, then laughed, incredulous. “What? Heck no! I mean, I love Shiemi and she’s great, but she’s like a sister. Even if I was, it wouldn’t matter because she’s into g—” He cut himself off, paling. _She’s into girls_ , Saguru thought, finishing the sentence. “Uh. Shit. Can we just pretend that I didn’t just say that last sentence? Because I think she’d kill me if she knew I said anything right now.”

“What sentence?” Saguru said obligingly.

Letting out a breath of relief, Takumi slouched in his seat. “Yeah. Anyway. Not going to be an issue.”

Silence stretched. Despite being asked to forget Takumi’s slip, Saguru got the impression that Takumi actually wanted to discuss it from the way he kept glancing at Saguru sidelong like he expected some sort of response. Though he supposed that sexuality still wasn’t regularly discussed openly, and more often than not it would be met with distaste if not outright disproval.

“On a completely unrelated note to the preceding topic,” Saguru said, Takumi tensing, “if you ever felt the need to talk about sexuality or gender, I am not one to judge about that sort of thing.” He paused, weighed his words and added, “It would be highly hypocritical if I did.”

Three seconds, ten, Takumi’s mouth closed with a click, eyes still a fraction wider with realization. Well. That was two students he’d come out to in as many months… It really shouldn’t matter after half a lifetime of being open about it, but there was something about being in Japan again…

“Hakuba-sensei…”

Saguru wasn’t sure what sort of reaction he was expecting, but having an earnest and frustrated look sent his way wasn’t it.

“Hakuba-sensei, I wish you’d been here to say that last year,” Takumi said. “Because Shiemi came out to me last year—” Oh, they were acknowledging this openly now? “—and I’ve looked things up on my own, but I’m the only one she’s come out to and there’s no one to talk to about this sort of thing! It’s not on Kaa-san’s radar. And Tou-san? If I brought it up with him that would just feel too weird. We don’t really have serious conversations.”

Perhaps they needed to start having those sort of conversations. It was tempting to bring it up with Kuroba, but it would probably only make Kuroba angry again for butting in on his parenting choices. “Well you can talk to me if you want.”

“Thanks.” Takumi sighed. “I sometimes worry I’m going to say something thoughtless and hurt her feelings. Or piss her off.”

“It’s give and take,” Saguru said. “No one changes immediately. But you’re thinking and trying to be conscientious and supportive to your friend and that’s what matters most.”

“I guess so...” Takumi sighed again. “Um...” He looked down at his hands, fingers picking at hangnails and the edges of calluses from swinging a lacrosse stick. “If...if it’s not something you’re uncomfortable talking about, how did you know you were, um. That you liked men? I never thought about this sort of thing at all until Shiemi.”

“And now you have to question a lot of things,” Saguru said, understanding. “I didn’t always know, if that’s what you’re asking. Some people are like that, but that wasn’t something I thought about until puberty, and even then it didn’t occur to me a first that being interested in men was, well, not an option, but a possibility I suppose. It should have, but culture does tend to shy away from things it deems morally corrupt, and at the time my exposure to non-heteronormative things was very scarce. Especially in the time I was in Japan.”

“So when you asked my mom out...”

“I had an idea that I wasn’t attracted to what was typically considered feminine, and only just determining that I found certain things about men...appealing.” Aoko with her vocal outrage and mop-swinging force of personality had been attractive as it was different from the quiet femininity of so many classmates or the sultry approach that Koizumi took. And back then Kuroba...well, Kuroba had caught his attention. And held it. Saguru cleared his throat, a bit uncomfortable about thinking just how fixated he’d been back then. “Let’s just say she made an impression, but I figured out that year that I wasn’t attracted in the way I initially thought. The lines between wanting to be a friend and wanting to get to know someone in a dating sense are occasionally blurry as well.”

“I get that. I’ve had a few people ask me out and I don’t really know what to feel when that happens. I mean, most guys in class are all ‘go for it, she’s cute!’ and I usually don’t know the person in question and what’s there to like when you don’t even know anything but their name? Why date someone just because they’re interested in you? I really don’t get it. So far I’ve never wanted to date anyone.” Takumi grimaced. “And that’s...not really normal, is it?”

“Normal is relative,” Saguru said. “Most people consider it abnormal to want to date someone other than the opposite sex. It isn’t abnormal, just not the predominant way of being.”

“I...isn’t that what abnormal is?” Takumi asked.

“Well when as much as twenty percent of the population isn’t hetero, that leaves a significant portion of humanity.” Saguru offered a smile. “You don’t have to have all the answers though. It’s okay not to know yet, and it would be okay if you were never interested in anyone.”

“It feels like it’s something I should know. You spend years assuming you’re attracted to girls because that’s the way the world works,” Takumi said with a hand wave, “and then it turns out the world’s more complicated and who knows?”

“You’re fourteen,” Saguru pointed out gently. “You have time to figure it out. I wasn’t sure until I was eighteen. I know people who figured things out much later than that.”

“That doesn’t make it less frustrating _now_ ,” Takumi grumbled. He pouted for a moment before letting it slide away. He seemed to be good at that, not holding on to negative emotions for long. “Hey, Hakuba-sensei, could I...? Would you mind if I told Shiemi? In case she ever needed someone to talk to?”

“I don’t mind,” Saguru said, “but Momoi-san is already aware of my orientation.”

“She is?” Takumi blinked. “When did she...? Oh. Hmm. That explains some things.”

Saguru didn’t want to know. Truly. “Did you have any other questions?”

“Hmm, not right now. I’ll get back to you on that.”

Saguru nodded, turning back to his grading since Takumi seemed to want a chance to think. A long time ago he’d been in a similar place with questions and no answers. There would be more questions to come, surely, and Saguru would do his best to answer as he’d done for other people in the past, and someone once did for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was about half a scene when I dug it out of the rest of the snippets and I was rather frustrated as I could have sworn it was fully written. But it already existed in two other fragments of scene starts and it wasn't like this is the only scene like that I've found. *side eyes the Kaito/Aoko prestory thing that will likely never be finished* Sexuality comes up a lot in this story in some way or another, and while rereading it had me stopping and wondering about Takumi a lot. And he never did speak in a deciding manner and so this gets reflected here. The fact that he starts questioning based around someone else coming out to him was a bit drawn from how my brother eventually reacted when I came out to him. Months later we had a discussion on the topic and he was "I think I am straight. But I'd never really thought about it and so I tried thinking about it and I don't think I'm attracted to men even if it's comfortable to hold a guy's hand" and I dunno, questioning might not change anything but you do end up understanding yourself more in the end. Or you could realize you're ace and mostly gay years after you thought you were bi as that last bit of the puzzle clicks into place. *shrugs* Human sexuality and identity is weird and complex. Takumi is Takumi and still figuring shit out. He has plenty of time.


	6. Shiemi's Wild Ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set right before/during chapter 15

Shiemi’s Wild Ideas

“Okay, so hear me out.”

Takumi peered over the Lit club novel of the week, already wary. Nothing good ever followed Shiemi saying those words. “What?”

“Your dad and Hakuba-sensei are friends, yeah?” Shiemi was ‘casually’ flipping through a textbook and that ratcheted up Takumi’s wariness because he knew it was anything but casual.

“I guess so, yeah. They talk to each other and I think Tou-san’s been to Hakuba-sensei’s apartment. Why?”

“Kuroba-ji doesn’t really have friends.”

He kind of wanted to protest this on principle just because of how she was leading this somewhere, but she was kind of right. Tou-san didn’t really have friends beyond a couple co-workers. He saw Takumi’s friends more often than he spent time with adults he knew. “I guess he doesn’t really. Other than Hakuba-sensei now.”

“And he doesn’t really date.”

“Shiemi,” Takumi said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She waved a hand at him, finally closing her book. “No, I said hear me out.”

“Fine. No, he doesn’t date. I think he’s been on a few dates since he and Kaa-san divorced, but I never met anyone he’s been with. I kind of guessed based on how there were more fresh flowers around for a while.”

“Okay. And he didn’t talk about those people. Now, how much does he talk about Hakuba-sensei?”

Takumi scowled at her. She met his stare with a raised eyebrow. He really didn’t want to answer her because she was only going to look smug.  “Frequently. But at least half of that is because he’s my teacher and I was pranking him.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Seriously, Shiemi—”

“Just think about it for a second. It all points to Kuroba-ji having a crush.”

“Or it could be he has an actual friendship. For once. And is happy about it.”

“You’re no fun,” Shiemi sighed.

“It is really weird to picture my dad and my _English teacher_ together. Why would you even put that in my head?”

“Because it would be cute.”

“Like heck. I thought you didn’t like Hakuba-sensei anyway.”

Shiemi shrugged. “I was reserving judgment. I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s not that bad. He’s really bad with people for someone who’s supposedly a good detective, but I guess brain smarts don’t really mean people smarts. And you like him now.”

“I don’t—” Takumi faltered because he couldn’t really truthfully say he disliked Hakuba now. Especially not after talking with him about his parents a few times. Or having him over for dinner. Or when he let Takumi hide in his apartment when Kaa-san and Tou-san were fighting. Okay, he had a lot of reasons lately not to hate him. “Okay, he’s not that bad. And has a sense of humor buried under everything. That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with the thought of him dating my dad.”

“Even if it makes them happy?”

He faltered again. Tou-san had been smiling more. Well, smiling and _meaning_ them, which was different because he always smiled whether it met his eyes or not. “I hate you for putting that idea in my brain,” he groaned. “How would we even know anyway?”

“Watch them interact,” Shiemi said like she’d been waiting for this question. “You won’t know until you see them together. Come up with some excuse to go out somewhere with you along for the ride and see what happens.”

There was the monthly outing with Tou-san coming up, and Takumi hated himself a little for thinking of it immediately. He didn’t want to know! Or maybe he did... He’d never really even considered that his dad might like men as well as women and that was something else he wasn’t sure how to feel about. Not that it mattered if he did! He was Tou-san regardless just... Brain a bit broken on that thought. Gah.

“Takumi, I want to know if my hunch is right.”

“Shh. I don’t want to think about it right now. I might have a way to get them interacting with me around but. Not going to think about this right now.”

“Fine,” Shiemi sighed, going back to actually doing her homework.

Of course now that she made him think about it that made it pretty hard to not think about it. Damn it Shiemi. Possibility of Tou-san having a crush aside, that didn’t mean _Hakuba_ had a crush. And ok, he knew Hakuba was gay but that didn’t mean anything. He had a lot of interesting stories. About Takumi’s parents. Specifically his father. Meaning Hakuba paid a lot of attention to him back then. But that didn’t mean he did now. Or mean anything at all.

Takumi’s eyes skipped over the same sentence in his book a dozen times without absorbing any of it. He let out a growl of frustration. “I hate you.”

“It’s not a crime to want to see Kuroba-ji happy.”

“Still hate you.”

Shiemi laughed. Takumi resigned himself to planning an outing with Hakuba. He had a feeling the only way to stop considering it would be to see for sure that nothing was happening.

*o*o*

It’s...weird having another person on one of his and Tou-san’s outings. Ok, no, Takumi had invited friends before, but this is the first time he’d had someone who was Tou-san’s friend along and the dynamic was completely different. It hadn’t really been hard to convince Tou-san to invite him, just a couple words about how maybe Hakuba would like a day out too. Almost too easy. Like Tou-san had wanted to invite him along even before Takumi suggested it.

The balance, usually Takumi and Tou-san back and forth, was constantly shifting. One minute it was Takumi and his father, then Takumi felt a bit on the outside as Tou-san and Hakuba interacted. He had to wonder if that was what it was like for Tou-san when Takumi invited someone along, a bit on the fringes and viewing someone’s relationship from the outside with all the startling differences in how they interacted with a person that wasn’t him.

It wasn’t bad though. Karaoke was fun. Hakuba didn’t have a bad voice at least and he seemed to get more out of watching them sing than singing himself. Lunch was good too. In all honesty, spending the day with his father and English teacher was a lot more fun than Takumi thought it was going to be.

That didn’t make it any less weird to see Tou-san lean into Hakuba’s personal space to talk or the way Hakuba gravitated right back. So weird. Did they even notice that they were doing it?

Takumi hung back, feeling a little like he was third-wheeling as he pulled up his chat with Shiemi.

_Okay you win. They totally are gravitating around each other and it is so so weird._

_HA I WAS RIGHT!_

_I hate you a little_

_;D See? See? I wasn’t just imagining it_

_Yeah, yeah shush. I can’t tell if they even notice they’re doing it??_

_One of them has to right?_

Takumi sent her a picture of them walking shoulder to shoulder, heads inclined toward each other as they talked. _You tell me_

Different. Maybe it was something he’d noticed subconsciously from the start and it had been part of what made him dislike Hakuba at first. Or maybe the closeness forming between them was new, just building bit by bit and they weren’t aware yet.

Sometimes the weirdest thing is realizing the adults in your life were people too. Even teachers. Even parents.

Shiemi sent him a string of emoticons. Takumi snorted and tucked his phone away. He felt a little bit like he was the parent at the moment. Chaperone for what wasn’t really a date. He’d hung back enough. He had answers at any rate so he’d just have to puzzle through how he felt about them later.


	7. Kaito's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place after ch 15 but before chapter 16

On the evening of June 21st, Kuroba Takumi had come and gone, Saguru had spent an afternoon full of leisurely reading, and Kuroba Kaito was home alone. This was the usual state of affairs among them for the most part. Shortly before eight o’clock, however, Saguru put a bookmark in his novel and decided to do something out of the ordinary; he knocked on his neighbor’s door.

Kuroba answered the door with a bemused expression on his face. Since it was usually Kuroba seeking Saguru out, Saguru supposed it was a bit odd for their positions to be reversed. “Hakuba,” Kuroba said.

“Care for some company?” Saguru asked.

Kuroba looked him over and at the box in Saguru’s free hand before shrugging. “Might as well.” He left the door open for Saguru to find his own way in. “Don’t bother with guest slippers,” Kuroba added, a vague wave of his hand as he rounded the entryway to his living room.

Saguru followed after him, closing the door and taking his shoes off as was the polite thing to do. Kuroba was seated at his couch, a half empty bottle of wine on the coffee table next to an empty glass and what appeared to be a photo album. On the kitchen table were two cards, one with Takumi’s taste clearly evident by the pop up in the center, the other apparently from coworkers if the messy scrawl of signatures was anything to go by. An analogue alarm clock smaller than the palm of Saguru’s hand sat next to both of them, face up. Kuroba poured himself another glass of wine, swirling it in the glass as Saguru took a seat in the adjacent chair.

“Happy birthday,” Saguru said.

Kuroba’s lips twitched in a facsimile of a smile. He raised the glass in a toast. “Thanks.” He took a large swallow of wine, and Saguru wondered just how fast he had been drinking that bottle and what Kuroba’s alcohol tolerance actually was. He seemed like he would be someone who could fake being sober a long way past actually being so.

“Mum sends her regards,” Saguru said, setting the box on the coffee table. It wasn’t wrapped, just plain white cardboard with a curl of plastic ribbon on top and a card tucked in the top flap from Saguru.

Kuroba looked at the package like it was a potentially live bomb. “That’s very kind of her.”

“It’s nothing big or all that special. No need to look so worried.”

Kuroba rolled his eyes and drained half the glass in one swallow. “She really didn’t need to bother.” The wine glass went back on the coffee table with a perfectly steady hand, though Saguru had the feeling Kuroba was a lot tipsier than he appeared. The bottle of wine had almost a 20% alcohol content. Kuroba popped the box open.

“French sables,” Saguru said as Kuroba picked up one of the round confections from the box. “My aunt sent Mum a bunch of Gran’s old recipes so Mum’s been on a baking spree.”

“Oh.” Kuroba took a bite. “It’s good.”

“I’ll pass that along.”

“Send my thanks too…it was nice of her to think of me…” Kuroba picked up Saguru’s card, pulling it free of the envelope and turning it around. It was nothing special, just a simple birthday greeting and well wishes, but it made Kuroba smile a bit more genuinely for a moment. “Thanks, Hakuba.”

Saguru waved the thanks away.

“Want a glass of—wait no, you don’t drink wine.” Kuroba frowned at his wine glass. “Would you like water?”

“I’m fine, Kuroba.” He had definitely drank more than he usually did; Kuroba almost never forgot people’s habits and preferences. “Looking at family pictures?” Saguru said, derailing all topic of drinks on the off chance Kuroba tried to insist that Saguru drank some sort of beverage when he didn’t need anything.

“Yeah.” Kuroba picked up the album, paging through it, back toward the start. It had photos of him and Aoko in there. High school photos, a marriage photo, one with their parents and Jii in the background like a benevolent grandfather. Kuroba looked at those for a moment looking a little sad before flipping a page to the first picture of Takumi. He was red and wrinkled the way all newborns were with a chubby face pulled into a frown. “He was such an angry baby for the first few months,” Kuroba said. “And then he calmed down. Aoko and I were terrified he’d just scream all the time forever. We barely got any sleep back then.”

Kuroba poured himself a bit more wine, not a full glass this time, and scooted so he was close enough to Saguru’s seat that they could both look at the pictures easily. There was one of Aoko and Momoi Keiko holding babies next to each other. Aoko looked like she was going to throw the nearest object in the camera’s direction but Momoi was laughing. It must have been Kaito who took the picture. One with Kuroba Chikage. One with Nakamori. Jii holding Takumi and looking even happier than he had in the wedding photo.

“Hakuba, Hakuba,” Kuroba said, reaching out to tug on Saguru’s sleeve. “He used to make this face—” Kuroba contorted his face like he was in between trying not to sneeze and bare his teeth at the same time. “—like that whenever we used to tell him to smile. See?” He pointed at Takumi as a toddler, clearly in the early stages of walking and wearing a similar expression to the one Kuroba had imitated. “It was the weirdest shit. Like he thought that was a smile for the longest time. It was so hard to get a good picture.” He flipped the pages, almost smiling. There was a span where Aoko was barely in them at all, just Takumi and an exhausted looking Kuroba or Chikage or Nakamori or Jii.

“That was when Aoko was in police training,” Kuroba explained. “I don’t know how we got through that to be honest. I had classes and Takumi and Aoko had to live in the dorms so we only ever saw her on weekends for months…” He touched a picture of Aoko in a uniform holding Takumi over a birthday cake with a single candle. “It felt like if we made it through that, we could make it through anything, you know?”

“I’d wondered how she made it to inspector at such a young age with having Takumi,” Saguru said. Kuroba’s expression was bitter sweet, nostalgic in a worrying way in part because Kuroba was showing that nostalgia at all.

“We both half worked ourselves to death to get to a point of stability. Her with powering through police courses and working odd hours til she could move up, and me with college and grad school. You know, I got my degrees in less than five years? We couldn’t have done it without Kaa-san and Jii. Even Nakamori helped babysit a lot. He likes kids. I never would have known until I saw him with Takumi.”

More pages went by, Takumi growing older in them. Aoko and Kaito still looked tired in most of the photos, but they also looked happy. Kuroba turned a page and there was the house Aoko lived in. Takumi wasn’t school age yet from the looks of him, but nearing it.

“I got a job at the museum,” Kaito said, smile leaving his face as he looked past the picture, into it at whatever memories it held. “Hired from an internship. We got a house together.” He trailed off. “I had hoped that by then I wouldn’t have to be Kid anymore, but I still was and I knew I probably would be for a lot longer. And so I told Aoko.”

The pictures following the happy one in their new home had tension on everyone’s faces even though it was clear that they were trying to be positive for the camera. Kuroba played with the edge of a page, flicking the corner of it back and forth with his fingernails. “I wasn’t planning on looking at these tonight, just put some new pictures in that Takumi brought over, but I can’t ever seem to just add to it.”

Saguru gently took the photo album from Kuroba’s hands before he started folding corners over with his fidgeting. Kuroba’s hands twisted with each other instead as Saguru kept moving through the pictorial timeline of Takumi’s life. The more pages he turned, the more Takumi’s smile showed up again. Not when both parents were in the photos together, which was understandable, but in the ones where he was with one or the other or with his friends or candid with his grandparents, he looked happy. Saguru reached the end. There were four photos on this page, the bottom two slots still open, most of the photos depicting Takumi in moments presumably with Kuroba. In one he was surrounded by Kuroba’s doves, a bird perching on every horizontal part of him as he fed them. One had him and Kuroba bent over something as they worked on it, identical smiles on their faces. A photo of Takumi dressed up for his high school entrance ceremony. The last one Saguru thought might have been taken in Kuroba’s childhood home. There was a photo or painting of Kuroba Toichi in the background. Sprawling on a couch, Kuroba and Takumi each had a hand of cards with a pile between them.

He set the album back on the coffee table. “Look,” Saguru said as Kuroba stared off into something only he could see. Saguru caught Kuroba’s hands and stilled them. “What do you see in these pictures?”

“My son getting too old too fast,” Kuroba said in what was clearly meant to be a joking tone. It fell flat though, and Saguru gripped his hands. Kuroba gripped back with fingers like iron bands.

“I see a young man who is comfortable around his parent,” Saguru said, “who enjoys his company. I see a parent who loves his son and seeing his son happy.” Saguru loved his father, but he didn’t have any photos or moments like the ones shown here with him. He had an intellectual relationship with his father more so than a friendship and that was fine for them. He was a little jealous of the ease between Kuroba and Takumi in the moments shown here though; that was something Saguru would never have with his father.

“I’m not a very good parent,” Kuroba said, looking at his hands instead of the photos. “I joke too much and encourage bad habits and always cave when he starts looking sad.”

“He has Aoko for structure,” Saguru said, “but he feels comfortable having fun with you. Or are the smiles in those pictures fake?”

Kuroba didn’t answer so Saguru shifted a bit closer and nudged him with his toe. “Hmm?”

“They’re real,” Kuroba mumbled. Saguru twitched as Kuroba flopped forward across the open space between them, ending up half in Saguru’s lap, half still on the other couch. “Hakuba,” Kuroba said into Saguru’s forearm and thigh, “you’re making it really hard to drunkenly wallow in feeling sorry about my life.”

Saguru almost laughed. “Consider it payback for the times you’ve drawn me out of my wallowing,” Saguru returned drily. Kuroba grunted, seemingly content to stay sprawled on top of him. Saguru sighed. “You know you’ve trapped my hands so I can’t help you up.”

“I’m not moving. You’re part of the furniture now.”

Ridiculous, Saguru thought fondly. “I think you’ve had enough to drink for the night.”

“Funny, I was just thinking I haven’t had enough.” Kuroba twisted around so he was on his side. There was a half-smile on his face that had the breath catching in Saguru’s chest. It was far from the first time he’d felt attracted to Kuroba but... But. Saguru’s hands clenched without conscious thought, still tangled with Kuroba’s.

Friends, he reminded himself. They were friends and that was all they’d ever be because Kuroba wasn’t into men and Saguru could be happy with just having this. It just figured that this flash of attraction was so much stronger than the flickers he’d managed to feel on the date with Hiroto. _It’s still possible to feel like this_ , he thought. _Good_ , _now stop feeling it_. The moment was there and gone, pushed away in the space of a breath.

“Definitely had enough,” Saguru said aware that he was a beat too slow to speak. Kuroba was drunk though. He didn’t seem to notice the pause at all. “You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m not that drunk,” Kuroba said.

“Says the man on my lap.”

“You’re surprisingly comfortable.” Kuroba on the other hand was all muscle and boney angles. Not comfortable at all if Saguru let himself pay attention to Kuroba’s weight against him. Saguru pulled his hands free and guided Kuroba right side up.

“I’m sure I am.”

Kuroba slumped back into his couch with a sigh. “Play a game of cards with me?”

“Sure.” Saguru smirked. “I’d ask you not to cheat, but it is your birthday.”

“Me? Cheat? Never.” Kuroba looked mock scandalized before giggling as he brought out a pack of cards sloppily enough for Saguru to catch him pulling them from a hidden shirt pocket. “How about we play with a penalty for every time you can actually catch me cheating?”

“Fair enough.” The bottle of wine, biscuit box, and photo album were shunted aside in favor of an inventive version of gin rummy. Kuroba didn’t touch a drop more alcohol the rest of the evening that Saguru was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing the story, realized at some point Kaito should have had a birthday, and then realized that it didn't fit with the story flow I'd created. So EXTRA CHAPTER IT IS. I mean, can't skip Kaito's birthday. For those who may have wanted a drunk Kaito, have a drunk, silly-sad Kaito. He's a melancholy drunk when left alone, but cheerful with company. Kaito drinks alone a bit more than he should :(
> 
> This is the last Extra for a bit guys :)


	8. Shiemi's List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place right before chapter 17

"What is that?" Takumi asked. He was sprawled across Shiemi's bed looking at the list she'd left on the desk.   
  
Shiemi wrote another sentence in her essay before answering. "My summer list."  
  
"Yeah, so the title says. Summer list for what though? Not things you want to do because hiking is on here and you hate hiking."  
  
"That's because it's a list of summer for getting your dad with Hakuba- sensei."  
  
"Seriously?" Takumi looked at the list again. "You are too invested in this. "  
  
"I was going to have you look it over." Shiemi grinned at him, peering over the edge of her glasses. "Since you brought the topic up first."  
  
Takumi snorted.  "Fine." He had a red pen in reach at least. He read down the list. Maybe.  Maybe. No. Hell no. Anywhere with fish was right out.  Too much walking. ...none of these were technically romantic.  "You're stuck on the fireworks."  
  
"Can you think of a more romantic thing in summer than watching fireworks?"  
  
Point. "I kind of doubt they would do anything even in a romantic situation. "  
  
"That's why we're going to be there to push them toward a romantic outcome." Shiemi stretched. "Flawless."   
  
Takumi doubted it would be that simple. "I'm helping under protest."  
  
"You're right there with me."  
  
She was kind of right. Blah. Was it weird to want your dad to realize he had a crush on your teacher? Because it was pretty ridiculous how they danced around each other. Mostly his dad. His dad didn't DO romantic things. He didn't do friend things either, but he went out of his way to be nice and check in and mentioned Hakuba- sensei more often than his coworkers.   
  
"What is my life?" He sighed.  
  
"It's the interesting kind," Shiemi said. "Okay, trade. I need you to look over my essay."  
  
"I haven't even read the novel you wrote it on."  
  
"And?"  
  
He traded papers. For a few minutes he worked through her essay, adding comments in the margins, before Shiemi spoke again.

“Do you think they even notice what’s going on?”

“Tou-san or Hakuba-sensei?” Takumi asked distractedly. “I think Tou-san is way more conscious of it than sensei, but you never know.”

“Mm. But Hakuba-sensei knows he likes men.”

“Who’s to say Tou-san isn’t aware that he’s bi?”

Shiemi raised an eyebrow. Takumi raised one back. She rolled her eyes. “Fine, fair point. It’s just so hard to tell with him sometimes. He doesn’t let you see his personal life and he misdirects constantly.”

“Annoying, I know. Kaa-san complains about it all the time too. You rarely get a straight answer to anything.” He made a few corrections on the essay. Sighed. “I feel like life would go so much smoother if Kaa-san and Tou-san just saw someone sometimes? Because Kaa-san needs an outlet out of work and Tou-san needs someone he can talk to, but they’re both still so caught up in each other’s issues. You’d think it hasn’t been like a decade since they got divorced.”

“Significant others are overrated,” Shiemi said. “My mom’s done just fine on her own. But she does at least get out and see people and both your parents are workaholics with no life. Still, if they do like someone then it’s stupid to pretend there’s nothing there. How’s your mom doing with Kurenai?”

“Besides pretending there’s nothing more than professionalism between them?” Takumi asked. “About the same as always. He still comes over once a week for dinner, nominally to talk about cases outside of work. If Kaa-san ever gave the go ahead, he’d propose on the spot, and I know Kaa-san likes him or she wouldn’t have him over as much as she does. Are all adults like this or is it just my parents?”

“Who knows.”

Takumi grunted and finished up the proof reading. He had never liked anyone in a romantic way, so who the hell knew if he’d be that idiotic about it. But Yuuto had fallen for a girl before and gotten the guts to ask her out, and plenty of people seemed to manage relationships just fine. Heck, his parents managed to be married for all of five years. They couldn’t be _that_ ignorant of their own emotions. “If they didn’t talk to each other, maybe that would work better.”

“What, nobody talking to anyone?” Shiemi threw him a weird look.

“No.” Takumi tossed her revised essay back at her. Shiemi caught it and went to work on it. “I mean my parents. If they didn’t see each other all the time, maybe they could move on with their lives.”

“Hmm.” Shiemi shrugged. “Maybe. But as you said, it’s been a decade. They’re pretty slow at this.”

Takumi made a soft sound of agreement. “If I ever like someone, don’t let me be an idiot about it.”

“Same,” Shiemi said. “So, list. Think any of those will work?”

“I think they all have more walking than is good for Hakuba-sensei’s leg but they could be fun. Not too romantic with teenagers tagging along but getting them both out doing something together is a start.”

“I still say fireworks are the epitome of romantic summer things.”

Takumi grinned at her and propped his head on his hands. “So if you ever have a date, I’m in charge of finding some pyrotechnics for it.”

“Heck yes,” Shiemi said, perfectly serious.

“Awesome. I’ll be the best wingman.” They both laughed, falling against each other in a rush of giggles. “But seriously,” he said once the laughter slowed, “I have your back if you ever need it.”

“I know.” Shiemi reached over and pulled Takumi into an affectionate headlock. “And I’ve got you covered. And your dad apparently. I’ve adopted both of you. There’s no escape.”

“Oi! Hey, why do you always do that?”

“Your flailing amuses me.”

Takumi pulled free, hair in wild disarray. “Just for that, I‘m not double checking your math homework.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do it anyway.”

Takumi turned back to the homework he was supposed to be doing while Shiemi moved on to tweaking her essay. For all they joked, he really would have her back through anything, just like he had had it when she first came out to him. He’d never seen her so hesitant about anything before or since, and he hoped she could be confident about that part of her like she was about everything else in her life.

Hopefully none of the plans they were making would backfire though. He kind of wanted to make his dad happier, not ruin one of the first close friendships he felt comfortable sharing with Takumi’s life.

SHIEMI'S SUMMER LIST

  * Beach => Watermelon 



                         Swimsuits (obviously) * _Unlikely_

                         Beach walking--how to convince them??

                         Ocean ball game * _you would never get him in the water_

                         Picnic (forget a pair of chopsticks?)

  * Park => Ice cream! (hopefully someone gets a vanilla cone) * _really. REALLY?_   



                      Picnic (see above)

                      Takumi's lacrosse (excuse to break off)

                      **FIREWORKS**

  * Ok, fireworks are a must regardless
  * Open air market => Food??



                                        Clothing??

  * Hiking => Ok, this wouldn't work would it... * _Bad idea_



                         But fireflies! Stars!

  * Camping => probably out too. Drat. * _Maybe with Kaa-san_
  * Music festival => ok, not in the middle of it



                                   food stands

                                   Music (obviously)

                                   Fireworks!! * _I get it. Fireworks._

                                   Even sparklers will do

  * ~~Fishing~~ => I don't have a death wish... * _He'd kill us._



__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr version has my awkward handwritten version of this list in photo form (incredibly messy, scribbly handwritten form =_= I have terrible handwriting and it was meant to be a joke/brainstorming until it wasn't) Not sure how to add an image here esp if it's not an image already online or if that's even possible...  
> Edit: here's the poorly written list courtesy of my long unused devart account >_>


	9. Kaito and Shiemi Gossip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place somewhere after chapter 14 and before the first day of summer vacation.

Kaito scrolled through his phone, looking through his various media feeds as he waited for Shiemi to arrive for their usual weekly chat. Chat being used loosely since it was basically one big gossip and information session. The weather was nice enough that Kaito had chosen an outdoor seat at the usual café. It was the open space that gave him a split second warning before Shiemi lunged from his blind spot.

“Kaito-ji~!” she said, tackling him. “It feels like it’s been ages!”

Kaito barely kept hold of his phone as all the air left his lungs. “We just saw each other Saturday,” he wheezed.

“Yeah, that’s half a week ago. Ages.” Shiemi pulled back and Kaito caught her wrist before she could move more than a bit away.

“Nice try, but tackling me was a bit transparent.”

Shiemi let go of Kaito’s wallet with a scowl. “I almost got you that time.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kaito said, tucking the wallet away in a different pocket. He probably shouldn’t have taught her the basics of pick pocketing, but she absorbed things with an enthusiasm that beat Takumi’s and it was cute how she tried to use it against him. Cute, but wholly ineffective. “What’s new on the rumor mill?”

Shiemi tossed herself into a free chair, adjusting her glasses where they’d ridden up her nose from the hug. “A lot of the usual who’s dating whom that you don’t really care about—”

“Did the girl who had a crush on Takumi confess?”

“Nah, she’s too shy for that. But someone else confessed to her and maybe there’s something there.”

“Ok, you’re right, move onto something interesting.”

Shiemi rolled her eyes. “As I was saying. Not too much this week on the rumor mill. Some upper classmen got busted for smoking marijuana and were suspended—don’t worry, they didn’t seem to be handing out drugs or anything like that, just looking to relax but were pretty stupid about doing it on school property. Let’s see...” Shiemi ticked a list off on her fingers. “Yumi-sensei posted pictures of her baby—really cute and I’m not huge on infants. There’s a bet going around on if Ishida the science teacher is going to ask out Uemoto the math teacher. People keep spotting him hanging around her desk or in the hallways looking like he wants to say something. Work romances,” she said scrunching her nose.

Kaito hid a smile. “Mm, not the best idea, right?”

“Some of them make it work I guess.” Shiemi shrugged. “The girls’ volleyball team kicked the boys’ asses in a practice match and now there’s a half serious joke going around that they should join the boy’s league since they can obviously play better. And on the Takumi front, he tried to prank me with a sticky trap, but it backfired and he ended up getting a glue-trap stuck to his outdoor shoes. It was hilarious.”

“And you got pictures.”

“Of course I got pictures, who do you take me for?” Shiemi said, tilting her head imperiously. “I’ll text them to you.”

“What’s the Hakuba rumor of the week?” Kaito asked, resting his elbows on the table. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipped it.”

“Ah ah, let me get something to drink first.” Shiemi flagged down a waitress for some strong black tea before she turned back to Kaito, clearly drawing it out just to hold it over him that he’d asked.

Kaito could laugh. It was manipulation, but it was hardly effective since he saw right through it.

“The Hakuba-sensei rumor of the week is that he used to be a spy,” Shiemi said, straight-faced. “Which is why he’s so unflappable. He smuggled information back and forth between Britain and Japan before he took the wrong mission and got shot in the leg and had to retire. He was also apparently also maybe the bodyguard to the queen and as such he’s never allowed to smile.” She paused. “I may have encouraged that one a bit.”

Kaito laughed. “Wow, they really come up with some wild things. I think this is better than the robot one.”

“Right?” Shiemi’s straight face cracked as she started giggling too. “Just trying to picture him in an action movie—”

“Hakuba, Saguru Hakuba,” Kaito said in a classic James Bond voice. “Eh, he’d get a kick out of that. None of them realize he’s just a Holmes otaku and a dork under all that serious face.”

Shiemi snorted. “Such a Holmes otaku. Or maybe just a mystery otaku, but I guess that’s a given if he was a detective. So I heard he came over to dinner the other day?”

“Takumi told you?” Kaito asked.

“Maybe.” She smiled. “Or maybe I asked Hakuba-sensei.”

“You didn’t.” Kaito was sure she didn’t, because Takumi told her pretty much everything in his life.

Shiemi flashed the waitress a bright smile as she delivered her tea before turning right back to Kaito with laser focus. “Okay, I didn’t. He doesn’t like to talk about anything personal. Is he like that to most people or just me?”

“Mm, in this case, probably a just you.” Shiemi tended to ask very pointed questions sometimes. Kaito could easily picture Hakuba brushing them off uncomfortably.

“Huh, so he talks to Takumi and he talks to you. That makes two people he’s open to. Cool. You know most other teachers at least slip a bit about their lives, but he’s a wall. Eh, he’ll slip up eventually.”

“Don’t push too hard,” Kaito cautioned. Hakuba wasn’t fragile, but he had a lot of sore spots at the moment that Shiemi could trample right over if she was more caught up in rooting out information than taking care about the person she was curious about.

“I wouldn’t,” Shiemi said with a sniff. “I know plenty about what he was like as a teenager thanks to Takumi but that’s kind of a large gap between now and then.” She took a sip of her tea, side-eying Kaito. “Then again, you sound like a pretty crazy person as a teen too.”

“Excuse you, I’ve only half mellowed!” Kaito put a hand over his heart and grinned at how she rolled her eyes. “Now I’m worried about what sort of things he’s told Takumi.” Kaito wasn’t that worried. He knew how bad he’d been with boundaries as a teen and he knew his failings now. He also knew there had to be some pretty funny stories in the mix, and none of the ones Hakuba would tell would be anything that connected Kaito to Kid because Kaito had made it _very clear_ how he felt about Takumi learning that secret.

“Only the good ones,” Shiemi said with mock seriousness. “In fact I think there was one with you extorting chocolate from every girl in class on Valentine’s Da—”

“It wasn’t extortion! I didn’t even realize it was Valentine’s at first, I was just excited for chocolate!” And then he wanted Aoko’s chocolate. A bit of a bittersweet memory even if it was kind of funny in retrospect.

“I bet all the boys in class hated you.”

“Probably. But no one stayed mad at me long.”

“You are irritatingly likable,” Shiemi agreed. “I’d even say Hakuba-sensei liked you back then from how Takumi described the stories.”

“Nah,” Kaito snorted, picturing Hakuba of long ago, shaking with suppressed rage after being hit by a barrage of paint-filled water balloons. “Pretty sure he hated me.”

“All the weirder you’re friends now, right?” Shiemi asked.

“Yeah. I thought we’d pick up where we left off but I guess we’ve both grown up some. Despite appearances,” he added, waving to himself.

Shiemi took another sip of tea with a smile on her face. It was the same smile that she had as a kid fantasizing about making rubber band traps and Kaito had to pause and replay the last few minutes to look for a trap.

“Funny how we keep going back to Hakuba-sensei,” Shiemi said, still smiling that particular, edge-of-smug smile.

“...Only because you seem to want to lead it back there a lot.”

“Do I? Or do you just enjoy the topic?”

Oh for the love of... “Shiemi,” Kaito said, exasperated.

“What? Maybe I just like to hear you be happy about a friend. You don’t talk about Miyu-san much lately or any of your other coworkers.” She was the picture of innocence now, tea cupped in her hand and sitting like she was a lady in a British period drama, all prim and how-could-you-even-suggest-I-was-being-manipulative?

“Miyu’s been working in the climate controlled rooms a lot lately. There’s not much to say when you’re mostly waving at each other through a glass window before diving into your personal projects.”

“Yeah. But you never sound concerned for her. Or smile like that when you bring up other friends.”

“Shiemi I get that you like seeing romantic opportunity wherever you look, but pairing up real people in your head isn’t a healthy pastime.”

She gave him an equally unimpressed look as the one he gave her. “One, it’s fun and I’m not hurting anyone thinking it would be cute. Two, I’d never say anything if I didn’t honestly think it went both ways. Three, Kaito-ji, you have smiled for real like, multiple times in this conversation already and weren’t even humoring me. Yes I can tell the difference.”

He shouldn’t have taught the kids how to poker face. That gave them too much power in reading people. “Sure. He’s a friend and I do enjoy spending time with him. Surprisingly. Now take your shipping goggles off.”

“Sorry, Kaito-ji, I need these glasses to see.” She set the tea down and laced her fingers together on the table. “Is it an orientation issue? Because I’ll lay off.”

How was he supposed to answer that considering they’d been talking around her orientation enough over the last half a year that she’d all but come out to him by this point? He could damn well lie but he’d told enough lies that this wasn’t one he wanted to tell to add one more burden to the near back-breaking collection. “Look...” Kaito rubbed the back of his neck, hating that it wasn’t something he could just misdirect or joke about, not with Shiemi. Joke about pretty much anything else, but... “There are reasons I can’t talk about why Hakuba and I are not happening. There’s things in our lives and you’ve got a pretty good idea about the history. As for a reason I can say, Hakuba’s kind of seeing someone.”

“Eh?” Shiemi gaped, blindsided. “That makes no sense based on everything I’ve seen.”

“Well he is.” Kaito didn’t say that it was a casual thing. He definitely didn’t mention that Hakuba was probably trying to test himself with dating because moving on from grief was a complicated thing.

“Huh.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“No, no. that just puts a different perspective on things and raises some questions. Bubble not burst at all,” Shiemi said distractedly.

Damn. So much for discouraging her. “And Shiemi, I don’t date, so please remember that too, okay?”

“You date,” Shiemi said. “Not often, and not long, but you’ve seen someone at some point, I remember catching a glimpse of you with some lady out shopping once.”

“Could have been a friend.”

“Friends don’t stand that close,” Shiemi said. “Anyway, don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging my orientation question.”

“I don’t like labels,” Kaito grumbled.

“Fine.” She backed off. “No labels for you. But for the record, you’d be cute together.”

“Noted and we’re never talking about this again, okay?”

“Your opinion on the matter is noted back.” Not agreement.

“Shiemi. I am not above threats and bribes.”

She laughed in his face. Of course. “Kuroba-ji, I’ll do what I want. But teaching me a new card trick would go a ways to getting me to be quiet.”

“I regret teaching you anything ever,” Kaito said, not really meaning it at all. Was the occasional stab at his privacy annoying? Yes, but he could never stay annoyed with her. He redirected the conversation back to their usual gossip with absolutely no subtlety before flagging down the waitress for a cup of coffee in preparation for a late night. Shiemi, thankfully, didn’t try dropping hints again. Kaito felt a bit tired preemptively, knowing this was only the start of what would probably become a long time dodging logic traps trying to pair him up with Hakuba.


	10. Aoko is Concerned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place right before chapter 16. I intended to post this earlier, but clearly I forgot ^_^;;

It was strange to be waiting outside Kaito’s apartment without Takumi being there. This wasn’t the first time Aoko visited alone—not even remotely—but it never stopped feeling strange and a little bit wrong to stand and knock. Growing up she barely bothered. Kaito’s home had been a second home for Aoko, Kaito’s mom a little like the mother Aoko barely remembered. Normally thinking about the strangeness of it all and nostalgia for the past put her in a bad mood, but she wasn’t here today for anything about her life.

When Kaito opened the door, he had a wary, mostly blank expression on his face and too much exhaustion lurking in his eyes. Aoko felt that on a soul-deep level. Most days she wanted to say fuck responsibility and just sleep. Naturally she didn’t. Neither did Kaito from the looks of it.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Kaito echoed. “Takumi’s not here today.”

“I know. He’s spending the night with Shiemi at Keiko’s. I thought we could...talk.”

“Talk.” The flat way Kaito said it made her wince. Talking usually ended up in arguing, and arguing usually meant her yelling and Kaito shutting down and that getting her even more frustrated. She felt a guilty lurch remembering the last time she ‘talked’ with Kaito as it had led to her breaking some of his dishes. Again. She never meant to do it, but then Kaito would just stand there like he deserved every negative thing coming out of her mouth instead of snarking back or _saying something,_ anything, and then there would be something broken and she’d feel horrible about it. Because some of it Kaito did deserve but she had always preferred when he met her head on instead of just taking what she threw at him—metaphorically. Thankfully she’d never lost herself so much that she’d hurt him. That, Aoko could never forgive herself for if it happened.

At least today she could say that she hadn’t come looking for a fight or annoyed at Kaito about anything in particular. Well, no more than the usual. “Yeah, just talk.”

Kaito stared her down a little longer before stepping to one side to let her in. Aoko tried not to feel too relieved. Somehow everything between them was both easier and harder with Takumi around as a buffer for their interactions. Without him, it always felt too unpredictable.

She took her shoes off like the guest she was and followed him into his living room. She could see all the clocks around the room like they were staring at her, like accusations. To be fair, that’s what they’d been when she gave them to Kaito, one every birthday and sometimes Christmas if he got her something. Reminders to return Takumi on time. Reminders, in a cruel and petty way, that the time he had with their son was limited and on her say so. Sometimes she felt viciously glad about that. Today was one of the days where she just felt tired and a bit of self-loathing at how pointed her anger could be. That Kaito had kept the clocks always felt like him taking her anger without protest again. They sat catty-corner from each other, her in a chair, him on the sofa. Kaito had the TV on to some game show, volume down low, more for background noise than anything else. He’d done that in high school and into their marriage. It annoyed her back then, but it just made her feel tired now.

“What did you want to talk about?” Kaito asked.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine. Just fine,” he said without a chink in his armor. He didn’t ask how she was doing. He probably was still watching the house at random hours in the stalkerish way of his that was irritating and invasive and utterly expected.

“Takumi left some of his notes here.” Which was true, but not all of the truth.

“I can go get them,” Kaito said, letting his sentence trail off open-ended, clearly waiting for the whole reason. Aoko would have usually just called for Kaito to drop off Takumi’s notes.

Aoko sighed. “How’s Hakuba-san?”

“Hakuba?” And lo and behold, Kaito peeled back the armor enough to look surprised. “You’re here to ask about Hakuba?”

“You’re close, right?” Hakuba wouldn’t give a straight answer, but she’d seen him coming and going a few times, seen him interact with Kaito once or twice. She’d heard about him tagging along with Kaito and Takumi once too and that was something personal and private that only a friend would be invited on. Kaito didn’t have to talk much about Hakuba for her to figure out they’d become friends. “I thought you might know how he is after everything in the media...”

“He’s right next door. You could just go ask him yourself right now.”

“I could, but I’m asking you,” Aoko said, irritated. She huffed as Kaito stared her down. “I don’t...” How to put it? “I keep putting my foot in my mouth with Hakuba-san. I don’t want to upset him further by blurting out the wrong thing again, but I do want to know if he’s okay. The media had no right to go digging into his life like that.” There was the guilty reminder that she’d done the same. At least she’d kept her findings secret.

Kaito looked at her a moment longer before caving. He leaned back, looking tired. “He’s stressed and worried he’s going to get fired,” he said. “And obviously upset about his private life being told to the world. He barely even mentioned some of that to me over the last few months, Aoko, he didn’t want people to know any of that. And you know how people are about homosexuality.”

Aoko knew. Aoko knew and she didn’t really get it because Hakuba had more than proven himself an upstanding citizen over the years; his private life shouldn’t have any sway compared to his life’s achievements. It was just love, same as any other kind of love. “Has he had problems?”

“In public? I don’t know. A few students’ families were less than pleased but they can go transfer for all I care. I think there’s a reporter bothering him, but she hasn’t found his apartment yet.”

“...I could have a talk with her. Unofficially. Perhaps put a bit of pressure...”

“Then you’d come under fire for misusing police authority,” Kaito said with a snort. “I’m sure he’d appreciate the thought though.”

They both sat for a moment. Aoko hated that there was nothing she could really do about the situation. Kaito was probably feeling the same way. After all, Kid was being used as an excuse to draw Hakuba out.

“I could bar him from the heist,” she said. Hakuba didn’t want to go anyway.

“Mm, he might have to end up going.”

She frowned. “He should just go hide somewhere until this whole mess is over. It’s almost summer break anyway.”

“I said that and you know how he is about work.” She imagined Saguru had never outgrown how seriously he took his work. Kaito waved a tired hand. “Anyway, I bet you that attending the heist is going to be part of his requirements for keeping his job. And since he lost dual citizenship upon coming of age, he needs to have an occupation to stay in Japan. Not to mention I think he actually likes teaching English. Maybe.” Kaito wavered a hand back and forth. “When he’s not using it as an excuse to hide in his apartment and stress himself out over grading and overly-detailed lesson plans.”

Aoko almost smiled, picturing Hakuba hunched over a pile of papers and murmuring to himself like he did when he took notes at heists in high school. She brushed away the mental image. “I still would rather he not be there.”

“But if he has to be?”

“Then he’s there I guess. I can always put him somewhere that he won’t have to be too involved.” She was too tired for all these unnecessary stresses. “Well I won’t kick him out.”

“Good.” Kaito sighed. “I would rather he didn’t go too, but I think the teaching job’s good for him even if the school board are narrow minded geezers.”

“Mm.” Weird to be agreeing with Kaito. Even weirder, they’d made it through most of a conversation without fighting. Maybe Hakuba was good for Kaito and Aoko, not just Kaito. “I never thought I’d see the day you were friends with Hakuba, you know.”

“Me neither. He’s not too bad though.” Kaito sounded downright fond.

“He isn’t,” Aoko agreed. He might even end up a good influence in Takumi’s life, and considering how the school year had started, that was something she hadn’t expected.

“...You know that you can be his friend too, right? Just because I made friends doesn’t mean he’s suddenly someone you can’t talk to.”

Aoko rolled her eyes. “I know, Bakaito.” Obviously she could still talk to him. Aoko wouldn’t let Kaito of all people determine who she did or didn’t get along with. “It’s just been. Awkward. And it will keep being awkward so long as he’s caught up in Kid related things and I keep remembering how many times I said the exact opposite of what I should have.”

“Well, good news is Hakuba’s awkward so, hey, nothing stopping you from being awkward together.”

“It’s fine.” And Aoko supposed it really was fine. She didn’t need to be close friends with Hakuba the way Kaito was. She had Keiko and Kintaro and other officers on her team to support her. She could call up her father any day of the week at any hour to vent and he’d be right there on the same page to rant with her. She had Takumi to come home to and fuss over and exist with. Kaito didn’t have that. He had a few coworkers, an often absent mother, and something odd going on with Kudo as Kid that was something between a rivalry and a friendship that was closer to how Kaito and Hakuba had been in high school than the relationship between Kaito and Hakuba now. Kaito needed a friend more than she did so she wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it all. If Hakuba stuck around in Japan, maybe they could be friends in the future, but it would have to happen gradually if it happened at all.

Kaito shifted and she snapped out of her thoughts. “Hate to kick you out but,” Kaito drawled, “it’s getting late.”

With all the clocks, Aoko could see that just fine. “What, you need sleep? I thought you ran on manic energy, caffeine and chocolate.”

“That’s you running on caffeine and manic energy.”

“No, it’s anger, caffeine, and righteous intimidation according to my subordinates.”

Kaito snorted and went and got Takumi’s notes. “I’ll pass along that you’re thinking of him to Hakuba, ok?”

“Thanks, Bakaito.”

He rolled his eyes at her, but it was closer to their high school bickering than real irritation.

This was the most relaxed they’d been toward each other in ages. Aoko even found a smile on her face as she walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Kaito didn't really have a chance to pass along that message with the heist prep. :/ He intended to though. After said heist, it kiiinda slipped his mind considering everything else happening.


	11. Kaito Hates Losing Dignity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one likes being an invalid, especially not Kaitou Kid. This is during Kid's first week of recovery, so probably at some point in chapter 22

 

There wasn’t much more humiliating than having to use a damn bedpan, Kaito thought, face impassive as Ran and Haibara helped lever him into position. On the one hand, it could have been a catheter. On the other, there was no way to go about bodily functions without having his nether-parts bared to the world. Kid was supposed to be suave and mysterious. Not drugged, aching, and having to have help situate his privates just to take a piss. Thank every deity that might be watching he’d been extremely out of it the first few days between the pain meds and his concussion. Now at least he could get his hand and arm to function enough to take care of _some_ of the ordeal.

“You don’t have to make that face,” Haibara said as Kaito went about his business. “It’s not like you have anything the rest of the male population doesn’t have.”

“I’m quite sure I’m not making any face right now,” Kaito said.

“Right, because ‘blank mask’ doesn’t count as an expression.” Haibara snorted.

“Ai-san,” Ran said, a warning note in her voice.

“Look, if he wanted to save face, he shouldn’t have gotten injured in the first place.”

“I’d be rolling my eyes, but I’m not making any faces right now,” Kaito said.

Ai snorted and took the bedpan away. “Your sense of humor’s a constant in this at least. Ran-chan, you can clean him up. I have a test I need to do.”

Ran hummed and Kaito relaxed fractionally as Haibara left the room. He couldn’t let his guard down around that woman, she made him want to find the high ground and go on the defensive but he couldn’t do much of anything right now. There was still the awkward matter of Ran, but at least there it was a little less awkward.

“You really don’t need to be self-conscious,” Ran said, helping him tidy up.

“Because you’ve seen it all before?” Kaito quipped.

Ran pretended to swat his shoulder, careful not to actually touch. “No, because there’s nothing wrong with accepting help when you need it.”

“Kudo-san—Ran-san...” Where were the boundary lines now, what could he call her? “There’s a difference between accepting help and being helpless and lacking in all dignity.”

“Not all dignity,” Ran said, straight faced. “You’re still mostly clothed.”

That startled a laugh from him and Ran smiled.

“But really, it won’t be for long and it’s not awkward from my side at least.”

Was she framing the situation like she would if her husband was sick or like how she cared for her children? Frankly, Kaito didn’t believe for a second that she didn’t feel at least a little awkward. “I know this is a burden on you and your family. And it puts you at risk. And your children at risk. So I apologi—” He cut off as Ran shoved a finger in his face.

“No.”

“No?”

“You tried to say all that two days ago when we got the wrong pain med dosage and you were high as a kite. I said it then and I’ll say it now, we don’t regret helping you. Do you regret helping Shinichi years ago with his Black Org?”

“Well. No, granted I was coerced a bit into that, but I guess not.”

“Do you regret getting to know us?”

“Of course not. And that was one-sided considering I was essentially stalking you which I also should probably apologize for considering the circumsta—”

“Kid.” Ran raised an eyebrow. She said it in just the right tone of _Mom_ voice that Kaito shut up on instinct. “Shinichi and I forgave you a long time ago. He only ever shows up at heists these days when he needs a break from his usual line of work.”

“I know.” It was rare for Kudo to regularly attend heists and had been for years now since...since Kaito asked him not to when he almost got shot. The rare times Kudo was there, he tried to make it more whimsical. More like his old heist style and when Kaito’s luck held, those were fun heists instead of feeling like the ax could fall at any moment.

“Now if you’ve been up to anything creepy lately I don’t want to know because forgiving the past is one thing but...”

Kaito grimaced. “No! Really no. I check up on you two maybe once a month if even, and it’s just a quick glance by. Promise. I like knowing people are alive.”

Ran nodded like it made perfect sense. She did marry Kudo though, and Kaito would bet Kudo had a lot of weird coping mechanisms for his traumas that he covered up just like Kaito had his. For a few moments they were silent, Ran finishing up helping him and Kaito torn between his thoughts and feeling embarrassed.

“I feel like I should make a joke about going out on a date before pants removal, but that ship had sailed, circled the world, and left on another voyage by now.”

Ran grinned. “You’re lucky I don’t mind being a nursemaid.”

“I can’t say I’ve had a prettier nurse,” Kaito said with full sincerity. That got him the faintest bit of a blush. Well. Even half-dead and without dignity he had some skills.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, thief.”

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure flattery once almost got me a kiss back in high school.”

“I thought you were Shinichi!”

“Mm, but that doesn’t explain the other time.”

Ran threw up her hands and Kaito grinned, or he did until the motion made his face ache at least.

“Clearly you’re going to be fine,” she said.

“Of course. I do the impossible, remember?” It wasn’t quite a joke considering the circumstances.

“Keep being impossible,” Ran replied. “Do you need anything else? Are you still okay on your current pain med dosage?”

Kaito took stock of the pains he had by and large shoved into a corner of his mind. They were uncomfortable even with the medication, but not unbearable or impossible to ignore. The worst was the lingering ache in his skull from the concussion and the edge of nausea where it dovetailed in with milder side effects from the morphine. If anything, the pain’s constant background presence was keeping him more aware and in the moment, so it worked out some with the paranoid side of his mind that needed to be clearheaded and at least marginally functional. Never mind that he still could barely move without aggravating something right now. “I’m fine. Thank you, Ran-san. Kudo-san?”

“You might as well call me Ran. If you refer to both of us as Kudo it will get confusing. Hakuba-san keeps doing that.”

They weren’t close enough for a first name basis though, Kaito understood. “Thanks, Ran-san.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. She gathered up her things to go. “I’ll be back in a few hours with dinner. If Hakuba-san is back, I’ll send him over instead.”

“He’s out?”

“He had some errands I think. He and Shinichi are keeping busy...”

“Not to sound ungrateful, but they are going to burn themselves out.” Kaito knew what detectives were like. They hyper-focused and that wasn’t healthy when it was something this big. Not that he was really one to talk; Kaito knew he worked too much. But Kaito had also always made a point to enjoy things to the fullest as well.

“Don’t worry,” Ran said. “I’m forcing them to take breaks and eat.”

“Good. Kind of defeats the purpose if they run themselves into the ground.”

“I’d pass that along, but considering you literally ran yourself into the ground...” Ran gave him a look that was half teasing, half chiding.

Kaito raised his better hand up a bit in a gesture of defense. Ow. Note to self, still not fun to move. “I get it. I promise to rest and recover to the best of my abilities.”

“Please do. See you in a few hours, Kid.”

Kaito watched her go. And now there was nothing to occupy him at all. Drat. That left napping again and possibly more strange morphine-induced dreams. Joy. Kaito closed his eyes, resigned to the fact that all he could do was wait the injury out.


	12. Chikage's Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Chikage arrives on the scene... takes place after chapter 24

It had been almost three decades since Chikage last wore the Phantom Lady outfit, but here she was putting it on again to protect her son’s fragile secrets for as long as he chose to keep them. There was a certain inevitability in heading to the Kudo home. Once, Toichi had been the one visiting a different Kudo while Kid and Yuusaku played their cat and mouse games in the shadows. Now it was their sons falling into the same role, one generation following in the footsteps of its predecessors. Chikage thought that if Toichi had been hurt rather than killed back then, Yuusaku and Yukiko would have taken him in too. She had always liked Yukiko. If anyone out of the know would have bent or broken the law for Kid, it would have been those two. She wished that Kudo Shinichi didn’t have to though because it meant Kaito was hurt too badly to look after himself. It had to happen when she was out of the country too…

The Kudo manor was much as it had been years ago. Yukiko and Yuusaku had moved out years and years ago, but as she slid in through an upstairs window, it felt like if she turned the corner they would be there waiting, Yuusaku with a book in hand and Yukiko with a smile.

No one was in this particular room though; a storage space filled with old dusty copies of Yuusaku’s early works and other personal things the home’s previous owners had decided to leave behind. There was a set of lock picks that Toichi gave Yukiko on a shelf. They looked like an ordinary roll of makeup brushes but Chikage would know that gingko pattern fabric anywhere.

The floor creaked softly as she walked down the hall. She didn’t know the lay of the floor here anymore, too many years passed by in the blink of an eye. She was still good enough that the sound was quiet enough to go unnoticed.

Kudo Ran was watching a children’s show with her two daughters as Chikage passed. They looked cute; she missed Takumi being that age. Kudo Shinichi was in the study poring over a stack of papers. There was a guest room in use down one wing, and at the end of the hallway was Kaito.

Kaito…was asleep.

He looked awful. Too many bandages and where there weren’t bandages, there were bruises and superficial scrapes. His leg was in a brace and his arm in a sling, and he had to be hating the indignity of being bed-bound and all the unpleasantness that went with it. He was alive though, like Hakuba Saguru and Aoko had told her. The fear she had refused to acknowledge in the whole god awful process of getting back to Japan and all the unexpected delays finally let go of her chest letting her breaths come easier. They’d almost gotten Kaito, but not this time. Not this time.

There was a children’s story collection on the bedside table with Kaito’s Kid phone and the old MP3 player he carried in high school. She hadn’t realized he’d kept that, or that it still worked. Had Hakuba brought it here? Chikage brushed back the hair on Kaito’s forehead. He had a mask on for what little good it did him. His hair was oily and in need of a wash. “You have the devil’s luck,” she said to him. “But you forget that no one’s luck lasts forever.” Not hers, not Toichi’s. Kaito got both their luck twice over, but that didn’t make it infinite.

He stirred beneath her touch, tilting his head toward her fingers. His eyes slid open, glazed a bit from sleep and pain medication. “Kaa-san?”

“Hey,” she said, smiling. He was over thirty with a child of his own, but he could have been thirteen and sick with the flu again in that moment. You never outgrew being a mother just like your child never really grew out of being your child. “What was that rule about guns?”

“Don’t get shot?” Kaito said. “Woops, failed step one.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” Chikage said. She ran gloved fingers through his hair, gentle, soothing, like when he used to have nightmares after Toichi’s death.

Kaito closed his eyes and tipped his head to give her better access. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“If you meant to, I’d have to give you a long talk.” It was a joke now, but at some points over the years… “Listening to a lot of music lately?”

Kaito’s eyes slit open and glanced at the bedside table. “`kuba brought it. Sometimes I use it when I’m out being someone else. Think he doesn’t realize most people have their music on their phones these days.”

“It was nice of him.” She traced the edge of a bruise and scrape on the side of his face. “Saguru-kun told me what happened, but it’s different to see how bad it all looks.”

“I’ll be fine. Eventually.” Stubborn Kaito to the end… “Since when are you on first name basis?”

“Since I asked him to call me by my first name and he reciprocated,” Chikage said, amused. “Since you seem to be friends now. Why aren’t you on first name basis?”

“He’s Hakuba,” Kaito said like it explained everything. “And I’m Kuroba. And he never offered.”

“Offer yours first,” Chikage said.

“He’s Hakuba,” Kaito repeated, shaking his head just enough for the hair to fall back down against his forehead.

So stubborn. But she did understand; it still felt weird to hear the Hakuba boy’s name from her son’s mouth without a complaint attached.

The floorboards in the hall creaked and Chikage forced herself to remain relaxed as Kudo Shinichi wandered into the room, a piece of paper still in his hand.

“Kid—oh.” He stared at her and her hand still on Kaito’s head. The paper scrunched in his hand.

Chikage smirked as she fell back into the Phantom Lady role that had never quite left her no matter how many years of retirement sat between her and its prime. “Good evening, Detective. No need to be alarmed. I’m just checking up on this brat since he insists on getting into trouble.”

“Oi,” Kaito complained.

“Shush,” she said. “You go looking for trouble or make it if you can’t find it. It’s not an insult if it’s the truth. Or was it being called a brat you take offense to?”

“I’m thirty-five. That’s hardly a brat anymore.”

“Maybe I meant your personality.”

Kaito pouted, only half an act for the detective. Chikage laughed. If he could joke around with her like this, he was going to be fine. It would take a long time, but he’d make it there.

She turned back to Shinichi who was watching them warily. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t check up on my son?” she said. Shinichi’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.

“Phantom Lady, then?” Shinichi asked.

“Kudo Shinichi,” she returned. “You look so much like your father did at your age.” Minus the facial hair, though it was a good choice for him. He’d inherited Yukiko’s fuller lips which would have conflicted with a mustache. “I remember seeing him chase my husband around.”

Shinichi frowned, nonplussed. “How did you get in?”

“A secret makes a woman a woman,” Chikage replied. Shinichi flinched at her words and now looked alarmed, like she had become something from his worst memories. That was odd. “Is something wrong?”

“You… I knew someone once who said that exact phrase.”

“I haven’t seen you since you were six, so I doubt it was me who said it…”

If anything he looked even more uncomfortable by that. Kaito wheezed with laughter next to her. “Meitantei,” Kaito said, wincing as he laughed a bit too hard. “I promise she’s not who you think she is. My mother and that woman are very different people.”

“I would hope so,” Shinichi said, “since last I knew Vermouth was in America.”

Vermouth… Oh, he meant Chris. Chikage hid a grimace. She’d all but forgotten Chris’s involvement with Kudo and that crime organization. Well, not the crime organization part, but its relation to Kudo. No wonder he’d looked like he saw a ghost. “You can check for a mask if it would make you feel better,” she offered, but Shinichi shook his head.

“I’ll take his word on it. I trust him to recognize his own mother no matter how many pain meds he’s on.”

“Your faith in me is astounding, Meitantei,” Kaito said, deadpan.

Chikage shook herself and brushed back Kaito’s hair one last time. “I shouldn’t stay much longer,” she said, letting her tone carry her apology. “I had to see you with my own eyes.”

“It’s fine.” Kaito smiled, not a fake smile, she could catch those. “I understand. Oh…but Kaa-san, it seems like we’ll be needing the connections you’ve kept soon.”

Chikage stilled. So Kaito was going to make his move. Or was someone else making it? ‘We’ implied more than one person. “I’ll have them ready.” She supposed it was time to put her own efforts into action then. Chris would be glad.

“Thanks.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back at some point. Tell Saguru-kun hello for me.” She’d be seeing him soon though if things were unfolding the way they seemed to be...

“I’ll give him hell for being on first name basis with you,” Kaito muttered.

“Try not to revert to a sixteen year old,” she said, rolling her eyes behind her wrap. “Thank you for keeping him,” she said to Shinichi.

Shinichi nodded, bemused, as she didn’t even bother to be secretive as she left. In fact, she walked out the front door. Why hide when they knew you were there?

Kaito was okay. Well, not okay, but he would be, and that was good. He was stirring up new trouble though, and while they’d been preparing for it for years, she still hoped it would be enough. Chikage couldn’t take losing him too. She _wouldn’t_ be losing him too.

Steely determination filling her, she pulled out her cell phone to make a call. “Chris? We’re going to have to move up our plans.”


	13. Cleaning Up the Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in chapter 19 after removing Kid from the crash site

Ayumi was dozing off over her research project when the text came through, the specific chime for Kudo Shinichi indicating its importance. The Shounen Tantei had unofficially disbanded after high school—mostly from necessity as they went to different universities in Tokyo—but every now and again Kudo would send them interesting cases for their opinions or they’d meet up and inevitably get caught up in some case or another. It was a long, long time since Kudo was their club mentor, and even longer since he was Conan, but in spite of everything, they’d kept in touch over the years and remained friends. Ayumi’s personal feelings about Conan were still complicated, but she supposed that was how it went with first loves even if it was just a silly school girl crush. It wasn’t like she’d held onto any illusions once Kudo Shinichi and Edogawa Conan were overlapped together in her mind. It was enough for her to set everything aside in curiosity though, and enough to get her outside after midnight, hauling cleaning supplies in the dark while sirens still wailed in the not-too-far distance.

It was enough for Mitsuhiko and Genta too, since when she got to the spot Kudo’s text specified, they were just arriving too.

“So,” Mitsuhiko said with a wry grin, “I take it you guys also got a text that sounded like Kudo wants us to cover up a murder.” He wiggled a bottle of bleach in one hand and what looked like trash bags filled with possible cleaning supplies in the other.

“Is that what it is?” Genta said, yawning widely. “You don’t really think Kudo murdered someone do you?”

“Of course not!” Ayumi heaved her bucket of water and mop off to the side.

“But we are ruining a crime scene, right? I did get the text’s meaning?” Genta, of course, hadn’t brought anything. “Which is kinda weird for Kudo to ask, but ok.”

“It’s for Kid,” Mitsuhiko said, patient as he pulled a second bucket from his trash bag along with gloves and a scrub brush. “Given that tonight is a heist and Kudo was attending, it has to be something to do with Kid, and given the statistical uptick in shootings at Kid heists, the logical train of thought is that Kid was shot and we’re hiding evidence.”

“Oh, if it’s for Kid,” Genta said, shrugging. They’d all grown up with Kid as some almost mythic figure popping in and out of childhood memories as he ran into Conan, and later, Kudo. Kid had probably saved all of them at one point or another from either doing something stupid or getting hurt by a less peaceful criminal. Granted, he’d also knocked them out plenty of times, but Kid was someone they liked well enough at any rate. For a thief.

“It’s for both of them,” Ayumi said, accepting a pair of gloves from Mitsuhiko. “Looks like Kudo’s getting involved with something big again.”

“And we’ll get left out,” Genta sighed. “On cleanup duty.”

“Did you even bring anything?” Ayumi asked.

“I brought myself! I got two hands to work with! I mean, anyone else and I wouldn’t even be here. I have a cooking exam tomorrow. But cuz it’s Kudo...”

They all nodded, commiserating. Friends. They’d all drop everything if any of them needed something.

“Surprised Ai isn’t here,” Genta said, taking Mitsuhiko’s last pair of gloves.

“She has medical knowledge,” Mitsuhiko said, and that was really all the explanation needed.

They gathered the buckets and cleaning tools and mop and made their way into the alley past trash bins and neatly tied recyclables. There, not far from the wall, was a twisted mess of Kid’s glider, poles bent and the cape in tatters. It had been cut away in places, maybe the release catches too damaged to undo. Ayumi assessed the mess with a detective’s eye. Blood skidded in one direction, pooled near the wreckage. A crash at a steep angle. Blood from bullet wounds or open fracture, but not the large amount one would expect from a head wound or a major artery. If Kid had survived the initial crash, there was a lower chance of him dying from blood loss in that case.

“Well shit,” Genta said. He squatted next to the glider. “Y’think Kid really is still alive? Had to be one heck of a fall.”

“I don’t think Kudo would want us cleaning up if he wasn’t,” Mitsuhiko said quietly.

A grim silence stretched for a moment before Ayumi made the decision to uncap the bleach and pour it into her bucket of water. “Genta, you take care of the glider. Mitsuhiko and I will clear up the blood.” There were smears and tracks of it, small drops where Kid must have been moved. They would have to erase all evidence. Up this close, she thought Kid might have lost more blood than first appeared. The way some of it was smeared meant it had to have soaked into his clothes. It was a good thing she had long been cured of any squeamishness. “Remember, keep alert. We don’t know if someone’s going to show up here.” Kudo didn’t think anyone would bother them, but the police hadn’t been here yet and there was always a chance the shooter or one of their subordinates could show up.

Ayumi rolled up her sleeves and grabbed the mop.

Genta broke down the glider into smaller pieces, fitting them away into garbage bags. Mitsuhiko gathered up scraps of fabric and circled for where blood had spread beyond the main mess, combing over the ground with his eye for detail. Ayumi dealt with the worst of it, mopping up blood and scrubbing the pavement to get as much genetic evidence off it as possible. They worked quick, keeping half their attention on their surroundings as they went. Ayumi was almost done with the worst of the visible bloodstains when Genta came over.

“Hey, I found a cane when I was looking for bits of glider that snapped off. Think it’s important?” He held up a utilitarian aluminum cane that looked like it had been well-used. “I found it around the trash bins so maybe it was thrown out but...”

“It’s worn enough maybe,” Ayumi said, eying it. “Were there any glider bits near it?”

“Eh, a few bits of metal that maybe snapped off from some of the hinges in the folding thingy? Most of the glider’s bent to heck and back, but not ripped in pieces. But it was on top of one, so it had to be there after the crash if it’s a glider bit.” Genta paused. “Oh, maybe an old man found Kid first!”

“Or there’s a possibility it was a disguise of one of the killers,” Mitsuhiko said, coming over. “They could have dropped it and left it behind.”

“If it’s an old man, he’s gotta be missing it. What, would he just hobble away without it?”

“True, which leads me to believe it wasn’t essential or it was thrown away,” Mitsuhiko said.

Ayumi frowned at the cane. “How was it laying?”

“Uh...” Genta paused to think before gesturing at the bins. “At an angle, with the top pointing toward where the blood stain is.”

“Like someone moved forward and dropped it...” Ayumi murmured. They all stared at the cane. There weren’t any other signs of people that they could see. Maybe it was important and maybe it wasn’t. Ayumi pulled out her phone, ignoring Genta and Mitsuhiko as they continued to hypothesize about old men versus disguises. _Found a cane on site. Important?_ She texted to Kudo.

There was a brief pause before a reply came back; Kudo must be keeping close to his phone at the moment. _It probably belongs to Hakuba Saguru. He was first on site. Bring it to house when convenient?_

 _Ok, can do_. Ayumi slid her phone away. “It looks like it might be Hakuba Saguru’s so no old men involved at all.”

“Aww, I was starting to like my theory,” Genta said.

“We shouldn’t be here much longer,” Ayumi said. “Help me scrub a bit more and we’ll leave, ok? I can probably drop the cane and glider parts off to Kudo sometime in the next day or two.” She was closest to Kudo’s home out of the three of them.

“Thanks, Ayumi,” Mitsuhiko said.

“Kudo owes us for this,” Ayumi said, picking up Mitsuhiko’s scrub brush again. “Want to try and convince him to go to that new thriller sometime soon? And get him to convince Ai?”

“Only if you do the convincing for Kudo. He’s weak to you.”

Ayumi grinned. “Of course. I’ll try to get news on Kid when I drop stuff off too. If Kudo won’t talk, Ran-san might.”

“Eh, if he won’t talk then, we get him to the movies and then corner him,” Genta said pragmatically. He hauled the garbage bags full of Kid’s glider and cape over before grabbing another scrub brush. “Kid owes us too. I’m gonna collect someday and have him perform at my wedding.”

“You have to date someone first to have a wedding,” Mitsuhiko pointed out. He dodged the scrub brush when Genta tossed it at him.

“Not all of us are good with girls, Mitsuhiko!”

“Just cook for them, that’ll make any girl happy!”

Ayumi rolled her eyes and kept scrubbing. They’d never make a great covert team. Still. She smiled. Still, she was glad they’d stuck together all these years. There weren’t many people in the world she’d scrub blood and skin out of pavement with. Or for. That was a pretty good friendship passing that kind of trial. “Are you going to help or not?”

“Yes! Sorry!”

Wherever Kid was, she hoped he’d make it through this okay. And that there wouldn’t be a reason in the future to clean his blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to include the shounen tantei. I choose to believe that when Conan returned to being Shinichi, he found some excuse to keep up with the kids. Only he kept slipping up and the kids aren't stupid and call him on it. They're just stubborn and nosy enough that they'd keep prying until they got proof and throw it in his face like the good child detectives he's training. ^_^ So Shinichi eventually caved and explained everything and everyone stayed friends.


	14. A Suspicious Recovery Rate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place around chapter 24-25

Ai was troubled, Shinichi could tell. She had been troubled since the moment Shinichi called her in to help Kid, but finding her in the lab basement looking over tissue samples taken from Kid with the same lip-biting concentration she used to get when she worked on tricky parts of the apotoxin antidote was worrying. Especially since she was losing sleep.

He’d coaxed her out of the lab with the promise of good coffee and a slice of Ran’s latest cake experiment, but it hadn’t cleared the uneasiness from her face.

“Okay,” he said as they chased caramel crumbs around their plates. “Something is bothering you and it has to do with Kid. What? Is he sick? Is there something wrong with his blood and tissue samples?”

Haibara drank a long swallow of coffee, face pinched, clearly reluctant to talk about it. “His tissue and blood samples are fine. Great, even. Aside from his injuries, Kid is the healthiest person I’ve ever met.” Shinichi waited, sipping his own coffee to savor it as she put together the right words. Her face twisted. “His healing rate is unnaturally fast.”

“Perhaps he’s just a quick healer,” Shinichi suggested. He mentally compared Kid from right after the accident to Kid now, skin scabbing and sharp eyed. Hard to tell if that was normal or not. He didn’t have a good standard for that sort of thing.

“You are a quick healer. Hattori is a quick healer. This is outside the realm of human norms.” Ai’s short fingernails tapped against her ceramic mug. “He shouldn’t have woken up the day after his crash. He certainly shouldn’t have had so little side effects from his concussion, and he shouldn’t be able to move much at all. It raises the question of just what sort of devil he made a deal with,” Ai said with deep suspicion. She was thinking about the sorts of people who created serums that did abnormal things. What sort of things Kid could be involved with. If Shinichi was less sure of Kid’s integrity, he’d feel worried too.

“I make a habit,” Kid’s voice came from the hallway, mild and unconcerned, “of not making deals with devils, but I’ve made a bargain with a witch a time or two.”

Shinichi and Ai turned to him as one, found him leaning against the wall heavily, going for nonchalance even though it was clearly the only thing keeping him upright.

“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” Shinichi asked.

Kid was pale, too pale from pain, but he smiled. “Bathroom. I was getting tired of the humiliation of using a bedpan. Can you blame me?”

“You insane idiot,” Ai huffed, slamming her mug down. “You’re going to reopen your wounds.”

Kid winced, smile sliding off his face. Shinichi could see the strain in the pinched corners of his eyes and the white knuckled grip on the wall using only as much pressure as he dared with his only free arm. Shinichi was amazed he’d made it out of bed let alone to the bathroom. That said, this was nowhere near Kid’s room or the bathroom at the other end of the house.

“You’re terrible at sitting still,” Shinichi said. He moved to help support Kid before the last of his strength ran out and he crumpled to the floor.

“A flaw,” Kid agreed, tense in his arms. Why Kid couldn’t be at ease with him after all the years of history and Shinichi even opening up his home in refuge, he wasn’t sure. They’d both had their moments, using each other from time to time, so it was understandable, but Shinichi hadn’t done anything drastic trying to catch Kid in years. Not since, well, not since Midori was born at any rate. “It seemed like a better idea fifteen minutes ago.”

Ai helped Shinichi move Kid to a kitchen chair, tsking under her breath. There were no spots of blood along his bandages, and his leg brace and sling seemed to be doing their job. This close though and Shinichi could see that Ai was right. Though it had only been a week and a half since the accident, the injuries looked like they were twice that old. The road burn along Kid’s face had scabbed and peeled away, new pink skin already fading toward its normal shade, likely not to leave a scar at all. Shinichi was willing to bet that the injuries under the bandages were much the same.

“Care to explain the healing?” Ai said, tilting Kid’s head up so she could check his collarbone. There had been bruises along his chest and sides and back from the glider harness, bruises from the impact that had swelled the day after, and were now just greenish blurs along his skin.

Kid submitted to the examination without complaint, letting her move this and that to check that he hadn’t hurt himself worse in the process. Only his continued pallor showed how much it hurt. “I can’t say I know the details. I’ve been like this for years now.”

“Your whole life?”

“Always been a fast healer. Broken leg healed in about a month when I was in high school. Bit less than that. It’s been faster the last...five or six years?”

It was weird to watch Kid be straightforward. To see him not bothering to put defenses up at all. Kid without a mask. Shinichi had seen it before, but that had been Kid annoyed, Kid as a young adult looking like Shinichi’s soccer ball was the last straw of a thousand others, Kid deciding to take a chance and trust Shinichi for a night. This was Kid hurt and world weary and revealing personal information like it didn’t cost him a thing to do so.

Ai checked Kid’s eyes next, likely wondering if the concussion was having late effects or one of the pain meds had led Kid to crazy decisions. Shinichi could have told her that that was Kid all on his own there. “And who did you pay,” she asked, voice cold, “for that little effect?”

Experimental drugs, body modifications, illegal experiments flicked through Shinichi’s head and were dismissed just as quickly. Kid wouldn’t trust unknown drugs. Barely trusted them to see to his injuries let alone trust someone to modify his body, something he relied upon knowing intimately to carry out his near impossible feats. Kid smiled just as cold. “Didn’t I say? I’ve been known to make deals with witches. It only affects me though, and there’s no one else running around with super healing that I know of.”

“Witches,” Ai said, dry and cutting. She wasn’t gentle checking Kid’s leg and Kid’s eyes glazed over for a moment when she checked the gunshot wound. “Of course. Naturally the smoke and mirrors magician thief cites magic.”

Kid recovered quickly. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you were a bit of a witch yourself, Haibara-san. What is turning back the hands of time if not a bit magical?”

Ai’s hands froze on Kid’s thigh.

“Or should I use one of your other names?” Kid’s mock nonchalance, masks on and in full force, built up so quick and subtle that it was hard to say when he went from genuine emotion to distancing himself again.

Shinichi swallowed. Suspicions that Kid knew about Conan once upon a time confirmed. He hadn’t realized Kid knew about Ai too.

Ai, however, was a bit more blindsided. “Where the hell did you—”

“Do you really think that I wouldn’t find information on you after two decades steeped in looking through the seedy underbelly of society?” Kid sent Shinichi a surreptitious glance. “And then there’s Conan... Let’s just say that things like his reaction to ‘Ran-neesan’ were a hell of a lot clearer after that revelation.”

“I used to wonder if you knew,” Shinichi said.

“What is that Holmsian crap you detectives are so fond of spouting? If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains is the truth? I have a very short list of what is impossible, and changing ages doesn’t even push the limits of it.”

And neither did abnormally accelerated healing if the steel in Kid’s eyes meant anything. “A gem that grants immortality?” Shinichi said.

“I’m willing to believe it. So are quite a few other people, but immortality would be overrated.”

“You’re insane,” Ai said, voice flat. She checked one more bandage and stepped away, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t know what you’re hopped up on to make you heal, but it better not lead anyone to us.”

“Never,” Kid said. “It’s the sort of deal that can’t be broken.”

“Anything can be broken.” Ai turned away and marched the dishes she’d used earlier to the sink. “As your current doctor, you should get the hell back in your room and sleep.” Then she left them both there. She was probably going to check Kid’s tissue samples again determined to find what she was missing, perhaps to prove that Kid still couldn’t be trusted.

Shinichi had long since given up those suspicions. There were things he wouldn’t trust Kid with, but his life wasn’t one of them. “If you were trying to get on her bad side that was the way to do it.”

Kid snorted, looking after her. “She’s never trusted me so why would she now?” The stubborn part of him that wouldn’t show weakness at a challenge was ebbing away and leaving the exhausted, near-maskless Kid in its wake. “I wasn’t sure I’d heal quickly,” he admitted. “Sometimes I don’t.”

Shinichi filed that away. It might be significant knowledge at some point. “You really shouldn’t have been out of bed though.”

Kid shot him an annoyed look. “Well aware, thanks.”

It was funny. In the week and a half Kid had been in his home, he’d seen more sides to Kid than over a decade of chasing him. He’d wanted to see more of Kid like this once. Now he knew Kid half out of his mind with drugs and pain, Kid half awake, Kid annoyed, Kid trying to be gentle. Kid reading to his children. Kid laughing honestly, Kid helpless, Kid angry and upset, Kid defeated. “Why did you really leave your room?” he asked.

“I didn’t lie about the bathroom.”

“There wasn’t any reason to come this far down the hallway either.”

Kid tipped his head back with a sigh. He had circles under his eyes even with how much he’d been sleeping on and off, like it still wasn’t enough for what his body needed. He looked older, like Shinichi looked older, but there were all the little ways they looked different from each other on full display now. A bit of a rounder face, more smile and laugh lines than frowns and furrowed brows. A face with no masks right now that could have belonged to a cousin if Shinichi had any cousins.

“You ever feel trapped, Kudo?” Kid asked. “How well do you sleep at night with how much of the dredges of humanity you run into?” Piercing indigo eyes stared him down with exhaustion that Shinichi knew because he felt something very similar to what he saw reflected there on his worst days. “Keeping busy keeps me sane and I can’t even do that right now. And meanwhile you and Hakuba and who knows else you’ve both roped into my mess are getting ready to fight shadows. So I took a walk down the hall to prove to myself I could.” Kid shut his eyes again, wilting back against the chair. “I proved I could. Don’t feel much more useful, but feel a bit less helpless.”

“I don’t think you could ever be completely helpless,” Shinichi said despite having seen Kid in just that state not too long ago.

Kid didn’t look amused. “Never mind.” He sighed, deflating into the chair more. “I suppose I should go back to my room.”

Shinichi offered Kid an arm to lean on. Kid took it with as much dignity as he was able. “If it helps,” Shinichi said as they made their slow, hobbling progress back toward Kid’s sick bed, “we’re making progress with what you gave us. Nakamori Ginzo and Aoko have both added files to yours and we have dozens of names ready to go. I’ve made calls to people I know in America and I know Hakuba-san called people he knows in London. They’re not unbeatable.”

“...It means more coming from you,” Kid said after a moment. “Hakuba said the same thing but...he hasn’t taken out an international crime ring before.”

Shinichi glanced at Kid’s strained face from the corner of his eye. “Would it help you sleep better if I asked Hakuba-san to stay the night again when he is over next?”

Kid’s face let nothing away, but that was also an answer in its own way. “Hakuba should focus on being careful instead of worrying about me.”

“You’d both sleep better with you down the hall,” Shinichi said.

“This is really uncomfortable coming from you,” Kid muttered.

“From me in particular?” Shinichi asked, a bit amused. “Or that it’s being brought up at all.”

“Both.” Kid shot him what could have been a death glare if he was a bit less distracted by pain.

Shinichi ignored the warning and smiled a little broader. “He knows what the inside of your house looks like. Meaning he’s been invited. Might even have a key considering he went and got something off your bookshelf.”

“He can pick locks,” Kid said flatly. “And he broke in at least once.”

“I’m sure you’ve done the same right back.”

Kid sighed, knowing he’s not going to win this. “I don’t...dislike having him around,” Kid admitted.

“He knows your son,” Shinichi said.

“He’s my son’s homeroom teacher,” Kid sighed. “Hakuba’s...complicated.”

“You trust him.”

“I do.”

Shinichi hummed and helped Kid back into bed. Kid went paler and paler as he had to lift his leg up into the bed. Shinichi held him steady and tried to make the shift as painless as possible. “Comfortable?”

“Eh. A bit less like my whole body’s one throbbing bruise,” Kid joked. He closed his eyes and let out a slow gust of breath. “I’ll get help next time I do something stupid,” he muttered.

“You do that.” He looked like he was going to fall asleep then and there, so Shinichi straightened the blankets and went to leave.

Kid’s hand caught his shirt before he could take more than a step away. “I should have apologized better,” he said so softly Shinichi almost didn’t hear. “Back then.”

Old fondness made Shinichi smile, whatever hurt had once been there long gone by now. He’d never blamed Kid for being erratic. Trusting Shinichi one moment then putting distance the next. He’d figured out after a while that Kid had lost his assistant somewhere in the mess back then. He probably hadn’t been in the best mental state then. And Shinichi hadn’t been in the right point in his life to reach out and give Kid what he’d needed or to realize he could have chased if he’d wanted when Kid pulled away. Instead he’d respected Kid’s distance without realizing the entirety of what it might mean. “It’s fine,” Shinichi said. He gently unfolded Kid’s fingers from his shirt and held that hand a moment. It had a lot more scars than the last time he’d held it like this. “The timing was wrong then. That wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

Kid sighed. “I’m still the one who ran.”

“Mm.” But Kid hadn’t gone too far either. There were still the occasional message, a birthday gift for him or Ran most years, a message after a really bad case. Kid hadn’t cut contact, just kept it one sided, never letting the line cross between detective and thief again on Shinichi’s side. And he’d trusted him in this moment of vulnerability even if it hadn’t initially been by choice. “You’re at a better place now at least. The past is the past though.”

Kid gripped his hand and let him go. Whatever could have been between them was in that past too. “Now...Hakuba...”

“It’s complicated?” Shinichi teased.

“I’m not sure where the hell I stand with Hakuba,” Kid admitted.

“Ask.”

“This really isn’t the time.”

Shinichi raised an eyebrow. “Take it from someone who almost didn’t get the chance to say something, but if you wait for the right, perfect moment, you might never get it.”

“Kudo, his husband died a year ago.”

“So don’t take my advice,” Shinichi said. “But for the record? Pretty sure he is smitten with you.” Shinichi left Kid frowning after him and went to find Ran where she was curled up, half asleep in their bed. The clock showed two in the morning, so by all rights he should have been there too a long time ago. Thankfully he was someone who could sleep even after drinking a cup of coffee.

Ran pulled him into the bed and her arms, curling around him so his head rested against her chest. Her warmth and heartbeat was instantly soothing. “Everything okay?” she asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Kid tried to walk on his own. He’s in bed now.”

“Do we have to cuff him to the bed?” Ran mumbled into Shinichi’s hair.

Shinichi snickered. “He’d probably just pick the lock.”

“Mm.” She ran hands along his arms and Shinichi’s eyelids drooped. No longer focused on puzzle pieces of Kid’s files or trying to get Ai to relax, the long day caught up to him.

“I love you,” Shinichi said into Ran’s collarbone, words only a bit muffled against her skin. After the conversation he just had with Kid it felt important to say it again, as many times as he could to Ran all over again because you never knew when you’d next get the chance. “So much.”

“I love you too, you workaholic.” Ran tugged blankets over them both. “Now sleep.”

Shinichi took Ran’s advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Just gonna leave that smiley there. 
> 
> (I've tried to hint some at Kaito's quick healing earlier like how he could move his arms easily after they got cut and all, but without Saguru being able to clearly observe/Kaito hiding things, it just didn't have a chance to come up. Also, I can't have Kaito laid out for literal months of recovery time when this fic ends sometime in September for the characters. That would just be cruel. He already has canonically quick healing, this is just even faster than that depending on severity of injury. (thus quick concussion recovery))


	15. Takumi Pieces Things Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before ch 26 but after Kid's crash.
> 
> Panic attack depicted in this, but hopefully not too graphic. 
> 
> Also this extra is almost twice the length of ch 26. ^_^;;;;;;; Which is why it's making up for the short chapter length. Hahaaaaa....

Takumi was going crazy by increments. First, he was grounded. This meant he was stuck in the house and his phone was gone and he couldn’t even throw himself into something like he normally would do when his thoughts wouldn’t shut up. Like lacrosse. Lacrosse that he was missing practices for and possibly games if his mom kept his punishment this strict for another week. Second, he hadn’t talked to Shiemi in a week. Third, he hadn’t seen or spoken to his dad at all either. And fourth, well, fourth was that every time he closed his eyes he was seeing smoke from the bombs at the heist going off. Or caught in the panicked crowd. Or reliving that sickening moment when they found Kid and he was still conscious enough to try to move even with blood pooled around him and his leg at a weird angle and— Takumi swallowed. So yeah, he was slowly going crazy. His mom hadn’t given him any updates, and he couldn’t exactly call Hakuba-sensei to find out if Kid was still alive. He didn’t have his number or his phone right now.

Even that he could have probably just dealt with, but after a frustrating day of trying not to think about a week ago and trying to force his way through summer homework for lack of anything better to do, his mom came home with bad news.

“Your father has had an accident,” Aoko said between returning Takumi’s greeting and reaching the kitchen to start dinner. The way she said it made it sound like his dad had been the one at fault. Takumi froze on the kitchen threshold. ‘Accident’ brought to mind Kid, which brought to mind Kid’s glider falling, which brought to mind Kid broken on the ground.

“How?” Takumi demanded a breath later. “How bad, is he okay?”

“It was bad enough to go to the hospital,” Aoko said.

“Which hospital?” Takumi asked, already planning to run off and find the right room.

“I’m not sure.”

“How can you not know?!”

“I didn’t think to ask when I got the call,” Aoko said. Her lips were pressed in a firm line. “And you are grounded.”

Takumi swayed, feeling like his feet had been kicked out from under him. “But it’s _Tou-san_ in a _hospital_. I know I’m grounded and not allowed over to see him, but I can’t even see that he’s okay?!” Takumi wasn’t prone to anger or violent impulses, but for a moment he wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her. Whatever her grudge with his father, he’d never thought she’d go all...all cold and closed up about it rather than bursting out like usual. Never thought she’d keep him from seeing him or going to see Kaito herself if something happened. Aoko still got groceries for him when she was in a good mood and Takumi was staying over the weekend. She’d gone and picked him up places before during the few times Tou-san did something stupid like get too drunk in public to get home. She still cared about if he lived or died, or at least Takumi always thought she did. “Kaa-san—”

“No.” Aoko turned her back, washing her hands at the sink like she was trying to remove the emotions clinging to her. “I’m keeping up with Chikage-baasan. You can visit in a few weeks.”

Weeks? In a few weeks, would his dad still be in the hospital? Or home? And if he would still be in the hospital, just how bad was that accident? Takumi’s hands clenched and unclenched, full of anxious energy and no direction to aim it in. “Okay,” he said forcing his voice calm and rational even though he felt the situation deserved anything but those things. “Okay, in a few weeks. Will you at least find out the details about what happened?”

“I’ll call Chikage-baasan back later tonight.” Aoko went to the fridge and stared a few minutes too long at the beer she kept in the back. It was one of those nights. Aoko didn’t drink often but when she did... She didn’t get angry or cry, she just got really quiet and it always made him uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t put words to. She didn’t reach for it though, but pulled out an onion and chicken from yesterday’s grocery run.

Takumi had to get out of this house. He had to get out or he was going to explode at Aoko or just explode in general. He clenched his hands again. “Kaa-san, I know I’m grounded, but can I go to Shiemi’s? I’m stuck in my summer homework.”

“If I let you out that door, would you even go to Shiemi’s?” Aoko asked.

“Straight there and straight back,” Takumi promised. “I’d call you when I got there and when I left and Shiemi could tell you I was there too. Please. She’s better than I am at English.”

“You’re doing fine in English.”

“Only the stuff I had the extra homework sheets on,” though that was a lie. English was coming easier lately because he’d started trying harder because Hakuba’s approval had somehow become important. “I haven’t been doing extra work lately.”

Aoko tossed a cutting board onto the counter with a clatter. She fixed Takumi with a hard stare. “Straight there. Straight back. And you’ll show your homework when you get back.”

“Thank you.”

“I _will_ know if you go somewhere else.”

“I promise I won’t go anywhere else.” It stung a bit. Her anger and mistrust. He was used to it when he stayed late with Kaito, but there Aoko always put some of the blame on Kaito. Until this year he’d never acted out much at school or disobeyed her ground rules. But he’d broken her trust and Takumi wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have done it again even with the consequences. Now, though, he would take what he could get.

“Call me!” Aoko shouted after him as Takumi raced upstairs to grab his things and go. “Take your cell phone from my room!”

He grabbed his phone on the way out and didn’t look back. Part of him was worried she’d take it back. He was half tempted to call his dad with it, but hospitals usually didn’t want cell phones in bed, and...and he didn’t know how bad the accident was. Kaito might not even be able to answer.

Takumi didn’t call to tell Shiemi he was coming over. They had been friends long enough that they had keys to each other’s homes and a standing invitation to come anytime. When he got to Shiemi’s tiny one room apartment, she was just starting dinner of her own.

“You look like hell,” she said giving him a once over.

“I’ll talk in a sec just...” Takumi called his mom’s number and thrust the phone at Shiemi. “Confirm I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

Shiemi took the phone. “Hey, moshi moshi Aoko-basan. Takumi made it here in one piece. Mm hmm. I’ll call back when he leaves.” She ended the call. “Grounded?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you it was a bad idea to go to the heist.”

Takumi tucked his phone away. “You said it would be interesting, not that it was a bad idea.”

“And anything I find interesting always ends up a bad idea for you,” Shiemi said. Accurate when Takumi stopped to think about it, from the time with the bees in primary school to only a few months ago when Shiemi had dragged him into trying things she saw in parkour videos. Shiemi hadn’t been the one covered in bruises the next day. “We’ll talk after dinner about whatever’s bothering you.”

Takumi didn’t protest. Instead he picked up a spare knife to cut vegetables as Shiemi finished her tempura batter. They worked in silence, comfortable in the familiar motions of preparing food. Takumi only spoke once to ask if Shiemi’s mother was joining them for dinner, but as usual, Keiko was working late. Shiemi set aside a portion of tempura for her.

It was only when rice was doled out in bowls and there were no more small tasks to keep Takumi’s hands busy that the tension crept back into him.

“Or we can talk during dinner,” Shiemi said as she saw Takumi’s shoulders creeping up toward his ears.

“Did you know Tou-san’s in the hospital?”

“No.” Shiemi’s eyes went sharp behind her glasses. “If he’s in the hospital, what are you doing here?”

“I’m grounded,” Takumi said with a hollow laugh that he’d never felt less. “Kaa-san’s angry at Tou-san because I went to the heist. He didn’t even do anything, it was all me and...” Takumi gripped his chopsticks. The food that had looked and smelled appetizing while cooking it didn’t seem all that tasty after all.

Shiemi watched him struggle with words for a long minute. “Start at the beginning. What happened with the heist?”

Takumi nibbled at a piece of tempura asparagus. “I didn’t have too much trouble getting in. The police blockade was pretty flimsy—too many people there to see the heist, too few officers to man it in comparison even with officers from outside Kaa-san’s division joining in. Actually, that could have been a problem in general—too many people who weren’t used to working with each other. Anyway, got past them easy enough, but before I could get anywhere near the heist room, Hakuba-sensei showed up.” He frowned at his plate. “I must have been seen on camera or something.”

“So Hakuba-sensei shows up and...?” Shiemi prompted.

“He shows up and tries to drag me off site because I’m not supposed to be there. Of course I’m arguing the whole time. Then the lights go out and Hakuba-sensei drags me past a couple of unconscious officers. Perfectly normal apparently. There were fireworks.” His hand shook slightly, the piece of asparagus between his chopsticks wobbling. “Then the bomb went off.”

“How close were you?” Shiemi watched him intently, eating her own meal at a fixed rate, bit by bit as he struggled to take even a few bites.

“Not too close,” Takumi said, shrugged. “We were almost back to the police line by then. I tried to run toward the building because Kaa-san was in there and I was scared she’d been caught in it.” His mouth opened, closed. “Everything was chaos. People screaming, rushing around. There weren’t enough officers to deal with something like that. We got caught up in that until Hakuba-sensei pulled us into an alley. I don’t even know how many people got injured in that mess.”

“Sixteen bystanders and two officers were badly injured,” Shiemi said. “I think maybe more people in the bomb but the news wasn’t reporting that. No one died.”

“Ah.” Knowing the numbers didn’t really make him feel any better or worse, just tired. “Anyway, we were in an alley out of the mess for the moment. We saw Kid escaping by glider. The glider went down.” Takumi went silent. Shiemi was silent with him, waiting. “You know, when it happened I thought, oh. This is the moment someone dies. I’m seeing a man die right now.” He didn’t want any of his food now even though he had been eating poorly all week and should by all rights feel starving. “He wasn’t dead, but somehow that was worse than if he was.” Kid twisting and trying to move in those awful seconds when they got there. The blood. The way Kid looked at Hakuba-sensei before passing out. The glider like a mirror of its owner, broken, tangled, torn.

Takumi didn’t realize he was breathing hard until Shiemi’s hand touched his arm. His eyes snapped to her face. She was concerned, but she was calm, and Takumi latched onto this with his whole being. Shiemi caught his scrabbling hands and held them tight.

“Counts of four,” she said. “In...two...three...four... out... two...three...four... in, like that.”

He tried to copy her, using her counting as a focus, and eventually it worked. He felt like he’d just run a mile. “Sorry.”

“You went through some scary shit,” Shiemi said in her no-nonsense way. “It’s going to mess you up for a while.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled shakily. “Yeah, I know.” And it had hit Hakuba-sensei worse. He wasn’t sure what to feel about seeing Hakuba-sensei have a panic attack. Usually it took a lot to get even a reaction from him. “Anyway,” he continued like the whole thing hadn’t happened, “we called for help. Couldn’t go to a hospital because Hakuba-sensei was pretty sure people could find Kid there and kill him that way. So he made a phone call and people showed up, and we took Kid in the back of a car somewhere and he got fixed up... Hakuba-sensei was scary calm the whole time until Kid was being treated, and then he went and freaked out in a corner. I mean I went and freaked out in a corner too, but I didn’t really expect it from him.”

“Maybe it reminded him of something.” Shiemi tapped her fingers along Takumi’s arm. “The papers said his husband died tragically, but they didn’t really say how.”

“Oh.” Now Takumi felt even worse about the whole thing. Seeing Hakuba-sensei break down felt a lot like the times he’d seen his mom cry or when his parents had been arguing and his dad got that dead, disconnected look in his eyes. _Not dead,_ Takumi thought, taking back the previous description when it made him remember his father was hurt. _Not dead like Kid is not dead._ “I forgot to call Kaa-san and so she was worried sick when morning came and I wasn’t home. So I got grounded. And today she said Tou-san got into an accident but I’m not allowed to go see him because she’s mad about me going to the heist even though it’s not Tou-san’s fault that I went.” He gave up all pretense of even pretending he was going to eat, lifting his feet up into the kitchen chair so he could hug his knees. “I don’t get it. I don’t get why she’s so angry at him, or how me attending a heist is connected to it beyond some stupid fact that Tou-san’s a Kid fanboy. I don’t get why she wouldn’t tell me what happened or why I wouldn’t be allowed to see him. He’s my _dad_. He’s my dad and with everything that happened to Kid, my brain is shoving Tou-san in Kid’s place in my memories. Just. What the hell, Shiemi?”

“That sucks,” she commiserated. “I can look into what happened if you want? Call around? Someone has to know the details.”

Takumi shrugged, still curled up in the chair. “Kaa-san didn’t even give a hospital name.”

“So I call all the hospitals in the area and ask them, and if that fails, I call Chikage-baachan and see if she’ll talk. And if she won’t, I’ll try Kuroba-ji’s cellphone because maybe someone is keeping track of it even if he’s in the hospital. Or heck, maybe he’ll even answer.” Shiemi gave him a quick, sideways hug, tipping him against her hip. “We’ve got this. As for your mom... Well, can’t do much about you being grounded or her having your phone watched, but you can always call me on the land line and I can use my phone.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have Hakuba-sensei’s number, would you?” Takumi asked.

“I might possibly have it,” Shiemi said, giving no indication of how she might have gotten said number. Takumi could see her getting it because of the literature club though.

“Kaa-san probably didn’t call him about Tou-san since she’s angry at him too. And...and I’d like to know if Kid is still alive. Hakuba-sensei is probably keeping track.”

“I can do that.” Shiemi prodded him in the side. Takumi twitched away. “Eat while I make the calls. If there’s any food left on that plate, I’m going to be annoyed.”

“Shiemi, I don’t even feel hungry.”

“Tough. You look like you haven’t been eating enough so you’re going to eat now while I’m watching. Especially the tofu. You need protein.”

“You sound like my mom.”

Shiemi snorted. “No, I sound like a friend. Eat.” She pulled out her phone and gave him some distance.

Takumi tried not to strain toward her voice on the phone as he forced a few more bites of tempura. Not for the first time he was glad he had Shiemi for a friend. Her tendency to take charge took away some of the overwhelming stress. She had a way of pulling information out of nowhere sometimes; he didn’t doubt she’d figure out what was going on.

That gave his brain the chance to think about something beyond the how and where and when of everything. He nibbled a piece of tempura tofu not tasting it at all. It was weird and unsettling to find out his dad was hurt so soon after Kid. Had it happened today? Or had Aoko only told him about it today?

There hadn’t been any texts on his phone or calls from Kaito over the week that Takumi didn’t have the phone—or Aoko had deleted them, but Takumi didn’t think she would go that far. She might be tracking his phone to make sure he was where he said he’d be, but she was never the sort of parent to rifle through her son’s phone or personal journals or anything like that.  It wasn’t like Kaito to not call at least once a week. Or text. Sometimes he sent a text a day full of random things involving coworkers or something he’d seen on his commute. But there wasn’t anything, and that raised the question of why, or more, if Kaito was injured, when did it happen? A day ago? Three days ago? Four days ago would be the start of where Takumi would have texted Kaito if he hadn’t gotten a message to see what was going on.

A niggling bit of him wondered if Kaito had been hurt all week.

It was probably just the part of his brain that wanted to project Kid’s crash memory on whatever accident had happened to his dad, but it was a persistent feeling in the back of his mind.

By the time Takumi had managed to nibble his way through almost all of the food on his plate, Shiemi returned from her phone calls in the corner. She tapped a pencil on a notebook full of quickly scribbled notes, frowning.

“Well,” she said, I can tell you that he’s not at any hospital in the area. I called all the places I can think to call in Ekoda and the surrounding areas to a couple towns out, but nothing. No Kuroba Kaito at any of them. Chikage-baachan picked up when I called, but she kept talking around my questions. As far as I can tell, Kaito-ji’s not at death’s door or anything, but whatever happened was pretty bad. She _might_ have alluded to a car crash, but she never actually used those words, so... not much to give you there.” Shiemi shrugged. “Kaito-ji didn’t pick up his phone, but I left a message. Will see if that gets me anywhere.”

She sank into a chair across from Takumi, still tapping absently. “Hakuba-sensei did pick up. He confirmed that there was an accident. Interestingly enough, he implied that Kaito-ji wasn’t in a hospital at all, but that he had checked in on him a few times and he was healing okay. I also find it interesting that he said he was healing, because that implies that it’s been long enough for there to be an improvement from however Kaito-ji was when he was first injured, and improvement takes time.” She scratched her head. Her hair, wild when it wasn’t in braids, stuck up at an angle. “As for the update on Kid, Kid’s also healing. No infections and he’s awake and aware, though it sounds like there was a bit of memory loss about the day before the heist and the time between crashing and being fully conscious. That’s kind of normal for concussions though; it’s surprising he remembers anything about the heist at all. So far it looks pretty bright for his chances of a full recovery. He sent along hopes that you’re doing okay,” she added, “and that you can call him if you need to talk.”

Takumi hummed, brain going over her words in that nitpicky way it got sometimes  like when he was picking apart one of Kaito’s tricks. “If he’s not in the hospital, where is he?” And was it just him or was there an awful lot of parallels between what was said about his dad’s condition and Kid’s? Healing. They were both healing. Both badly injured. Both technically in an accident of a sort. Crash. Crash like the glider crashed. Takumi huffed a breath out hard through his nose, refusing to let his brain wander back down that path for the thousandth time that week.

“At home?” Shiemi said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Or with Chikage-baachan? If he’s hurt bad, he’d need someone looking after him.”

“Hakuba-sensei?”

“No, he sounded a little distracted when we were talking. Like he’s working on something. There was someone else in the background too.”

“He could have just been visiting Kid.”

Shiemi shrugged. “Let’s lay out what we do know. Kaito-ji is injured—everyone admits to that.” She held up a second finger. “His injuries are bad.” Another finger. “He’s been injured for more than a day. We can say this because of what Hakuba-sensei let slip and because no one else actually stated when said accident occurred.” Shiemi had a look of deep focus on her face that Takumi couldn’t help latching onto with hope that she could make sense of it all. Three fingers tapped the side of her face before she slowly raised a fourth. “He isn’t in a hospital. Both Aoko-bachan and Chikage-baachan dodged naming a hospital and no hospital in the area has him. Plus Hakuba-sensei also let it slip a bit. What else?”

“Kaa-san’s still angry at Tou-san even though he’s injured,” Takumi said. “Which, ok, they have a weird, complicated, explosive non-relationship. But when he got the flu two years ago, she brought him medicine and soup and she’s not visiting this time and for all we know, Tou-san’s hurt bad enough it could be months of recovery.”

“Good point.” Shiemi held out five fingers.

“She didn’t even ask for details of what happened or what hospital Tou-san was in from Obaa-chan.”

“...Maybe she didn’t need to?” That was Shiemi’s Shogi face, right before she pulled out a move that would turn the tide of a game. “Maybe she didn’t ask questions because she already knew what happened, but she couldn’t give you details for some reason.”

“What the hell couldn’t she tell me for?” Takumi felt his hands clenching into fists. He didn’t get truly angry often, but he was nearing that point now. “Obaa-san, Kaa-san, Hakuba-sensei—they all seem to be on the same page. What big secret could they possibly have that would mean hiding Tou-san?” A thought struck him. “Unless he’s actually dead...”

“He’s not dead,” Shiemi snapped, killing that thought before it could do more than start to sink him into the icy grip of fear. “If he was dead they’d just call it an accident and say it upfront. You don’t get shifty about a death unless you had a part in the killing.”

And no matter how often his parents fought, Aoko wouldn’t kill Kaito. And Chikage-baachan wouldn’t kill her son. And considering how Hakuba-sensei looked at his dad sometimes, he _definitely_ wouldn’t kill him. Plus there would be no way he’d be so calm on a phone conversation either. Takumi relaxed infinitesimally. “Okay. Good.” But what could it be? The only secret Takumi could think of off the top of his head was why his mom divorced his dad because she never talked about it. ...But now that he thought about it, it was a secret that Hakuba-sensei knew the answer to, and Chikage-baachan had to know as well...

“Do you know why my parents divorced?” Takumi asked Shiemi.

She shrugged, taking the change in topic in stride. “I always figured it was life differences. No offense to your dad, he’s an awesome guy, but he has a very different life approach than Aoko-bachan.”

“Yeah.” And at one point Takumi had figured that too. But they seemed to accept those parts of each other when it got down to it. The only thing that Aoko had zero tolerance on was... “Kid,” he murmured.

Shiemi went still across from him. Takumi bit his lip. No, no, it couldn’t be possible. It was just his brain being stupid and shoving traumas back in his face. But. Kaito was injured. Kid was injured. Kid didn’t go to a hospital. Kaito wasn’t in a hospital. Kid was healing. Kaito was healing. What consistently made Aoko mad? Kaitou Kid. Who was Aoko mad at most in regards to Takumi showing up at the heist? Kaito. Not Takumi who took the time to sneak through a police barricade. Not at Kid for holding a heist that put hundreds of people in danger. Aoko was holding a grudge with Kaito. Kaito who hadn’t even been at the heist or made any mention of it to Takumi. Unless Takumi’s brain wasn’t crazy and Kaito had actually been there. As Kid.

He stared at Shiemi with mounting horror and disbelief. The serious set of her jaw and the direct stare back said her mind had gone the exact same place. “It can’t be,” he said.

“Can’t it?” She drummed her fingers along the table. “I have to admit, I’ve thought it before. Kid’s a showman and really skilled. The only person I’ve ever met with that good of sleight of hand is Kaito-ji.”

“There have to be hundreds—thousands—of magicians or...or thieves or whatever out there who are that skilled.”

“Who are Japanese?” Shiemi countered. “Who have that kind of background in magic to draw on? Who keep practicing even though it’s not their profession?”

“It’s homage to his dad...” But the idea had been planted. “He’s just. Kid’s fanboy. He even consulted on Kid heists in the past. I mean, he’d have to have been, what? Sixteen when he started?”

“Easier to pull a heist if you have seen it from the inside,” Shiemi said. “And he was skilled even back then.”

Another awful bit slides into place. “Hakuba-sensei got in arguments with Kaa-san in high school because he accused Tou-san of being Kaitou Kid.”

“...Does he still think Kaito-ji is Kid?”

“When I asked he just said that he doesn’t.”

They both sat there a moment, digesting this. The same traitorous part of his brain that kept connecting things together helpfully pointed out that thinking is different than knowing.

“He might not be,” Shiemi said.

“But he might be.” And Takumi was not okay with that. He was not okay because if Kaito was Kid, that explained a lot of things but left so many more full of questions. If he was Kid, then Aoko had been chasing after her own ex-husband. If he was Kid then much of Kaito was someone Takumi barely knew. If he was Kid then when Kid had crashed Takumi had almost seen his dad— Takumi stopped that thought in its tracks.

“You okay?” Shiemi asked, giving him a once over that meant his face was showing who knew what.

Takumi wanted to laugh hysterically. Okay? He was the furthest thing from okay. Instead he did his best mimic of his dad’s poker face—and wasn’t that a skill that could be useful in more than putting on a show—and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I think...I think I’m done trying to find answers for the moment.” He wet his lips, only now aware of how dry they felt. Rough, because he kept biting them out of nerves. “I brought homework over as my excuse to come. Help me with that?”

Shiemi knew him too well to even pretend to be convinced by that, but she didn’t push him about it yet. Yet, because she would push eventually, she always did and he loved her for knowing when it was okay to do it and when it wasn’t. “Fine,” Shiemi said. “But you have to get me gossip on the girl’s lacrosse team before summer’s over.”

“Deal.” He didn’t even ask what she wanted it for. He gladly dove into the usual bargaining of little, inconsequential favors that they had between them. Then he buried himself in the incomprehensible mess of the English language until he and Shiemi had done more than three quarters of the entirety of his summer English homework in one night.

They didn’t talk about Kaito or Kid again the rest of the night, not even to wonder if he was okay. And when Takumi got back home late, it was to find Aoko drunk in the kitchen on beer and two glasses belonging to other people in the sink. One was his grandfather’s; the ashtray Aoko kept for his visits had been left on the counter. Aoko was asleep, the dregs of beer still at the bottom of her glass. She had to have fallen asleep between when Takumi called to say he was leaving and when he returned to the house.

He didn’t know what to feel seeing her like that. Sad? Angry? The tiniest bit glad that it could be an emotional response besides anger directed at his dad?

Mostly he just felt tired.

He washed the dishes in the sink, pulling the glass of beer from Aoko’s limp hand. After, he nudged Aoko awake enough to help her upstairs to her bedroom. It left him with the bitter taste of irony, him in a parental moment toward his mother instead of the other way around.

Takumi went to bed determined not to think about what he and Shiemi had possibly uncovered again.

That resolve lasted until three in the morning when he woke up from a nightmare where Kid’s broken body had Kaito’s bleeding face.

Takumi didn’t get much more rest that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a long time coming. ^_^;; Poor Takumi.


	16. Takumi Inherited Poor Life Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read chapter 28 before reading this as it takes place right before the last scene in that chapter

“Shiemi, I’m going to do something really stupid.”

_“Stupid how? Takumi, where are you? I can hear a lot of wind.”_

Takumi laughed shakily. His dad almost died because of a glider and here he was with only half an idea of how this worked. “Kaa-san’s going to kill me.”

_“Shit, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”_

“Then Tou-san will resurrect me to chew me out.”

_“Takumi.”_

“And Hakuba-sensei will give me that disappointed look and explain every wrong thing I’ve done in that stupid lecture tone he gets—”

_“Please tell me you’re not wearing the suit.”_

“I’m wearing the suit.” Takumi swallowed. It wouldn’t be audible over the phone with how much wind was up here, but he couldn’t even out his breathing no matter how hard he tried. If he could get up here, then someone could shoot at Kudo. If he went out there, then someone could shoot at him. Or he could fuck up with the glider and end up paste on the sidewalk like Tou-san’s right side. Shit. “I have to do this, Shiemi.”

 _“The hell you don’t, Takumi!”_ Shiemi growled. “ _Leave it to the adults whose job it is!”_

“They won’t take the bait!” Takumi growled back. “I _know_ they won’t.”

_“Know or **know**?”_

“Gut feeling, but it only makes sense.” He shifted at the edge of the building. The suit was too big, the glider still folded, but heavy and wrong wrong wrong. Takumi wasn’t cut out to be Kid, had never dedicated himself to learning sleight of hand to Tou-san’s level, never learned a proper poker face or disguise skills or any of that.  But he was still Kid’s legacy as much as Tou-san was. His life was equally shaped by Kid as Tou-san’s had been by his father’s absence, even if in a different way. “I just. Needed to say something to someone before I did this.”

 _“If you die so help me, I’m going to find a way to kill you again you asshole,”_ Shiemi said. She sounded choked up. She never cried though, so it was probably more from fear and anger than tears.

“Any advice for using a hang glider?”

_“Use the wind and don’t get shot?”_

Takumi laughed, high and nervous. “Right. Right, I got this.”

_“Please don’t get shot.”_

“I’ll try. I’m wearing one of Kaa-san’s bulletproof vests under the suit though, just in case.”

_“Not good enough.”_

No. It wasn’t because there was at least one assassin that went for the head if Takumi remembered the reports he’d snitched right. This was insane, but if they didn’t spring the trap and catch someone, this might be years and years of just wondering if someone would show up to try and kill Tou-san. Even with this, it would be years of wondering. But this was doing something, taking part in making that better rather than standing around worrying and feeling bad like he had most of his life. He could do this.

“Talk to you later, Shiemi.”

_“You’d better. Leave your GPS on, would you?”_

“Yeah.” Takumi hung up and slid the phone into one of the hidden pockets. There were so many of them, all full of things that could explode of break or who knew what else. He only knew what half of them were let alone how to use them. Breathe in, out. He pressed the glider button and it snapped open. He had to brace immediately to keep from being torn off the top of the building already as wind caught it like a kite. His hands were slick with sweat beneath the gloves. The monocle cut into his face and the hat drooped and he might die. Takumi took one more breath and leaned over the side, aiming for the rooftop across from the museum. All eyes would be on Kudo, but he’d pull them elsewhere. Wind caught the glider and he was flying. If it weren’t for the sheer terror, it would be the best adrenaline high of his life.


	17. Aoko Needs a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the fallout of Takumi's choices in chapter 29...  
> AKA: AOKO REALLY NEEDS A DRINK AND A LONG VACATION. But she's only gonna get one of those things...

Aoko collapsed into a chair in Kintaro’s kitchen. She was done. She was one hundred percent, no exaggeration, _done_ with the world right now. “I don’t want to go home,” she announced to Kintaro’s cheap, laminated kitchen table. “I don’t want to go home, I don’t want to go to Tou-san’s, and I really fucking don’t want to go to work in the morning.”

Kintaro, being the patient soul that he was, didn’t say anything. He moved for the fridge for the beer he kept in the back.

Aoko made a grabbing motion and he set a can in her palm. “You’re the best right hand man a woman could ask for.”

“I know you too well,” he said, taking the seat across from her.

“Heck yes you do.” Somewhere between doing their early partner days and getting onto the taskforce, they’d ended up in each other’s lives more than any of the other people Aoko worked with. There was Yumi and Kesuke and Fujitaka and Gotou, but as much as Aoko had spent many a sleepless night with the heads of her team and struggled together with them and trusted them with her life, they weren’t the ones who could read when she needed coffee or if it was better to convince her to head home. They weren’t the ones who remembered Takumi’s birthday or Aoko’s favorite chocolate brand or had seen her drunk off her ass and upset about Kaito and never told a soul. Then again, she hadn’t seen any of them keel over with a high fever, get overly happy over the time a Kid heist lead to finding a bunch of kittens in a mansion crawl space, or met their reason for becoming a police officer like she had with Kintaro. Last she knew, he’d never talked about his late sister to anyone else on the force even if everyone knew he was the best among them dealing with small children.

Kintaro was a friend, a partner even if they weren’t technically partners anymore, someone she knew had her back and, above all, wouldn’t lie to her. One day she’d turned around and he’d been there and he’d stayed, steady in all the ways she wasn’t. That’s why she was here, not home.

Aoko took a drink of her beer, knowing it would take more than this one to get her to the level of drunk she wanted to be right now.

“I take it Takumi is with your father?” Kintaro said as the silence stretched.

“Yep.” Aoko took another drink. “He’s under constant surveillance. Can’t trust him right now. He’s going to get himself killed. And it’s mostly Kaito’s fault but it’s also mine and I don’t know what the hell to do. I don’t want to go home because right now I’m angry at Takumi and I don’t want to make things worse. He’s flinching at loud noises and the last thing he needs is me yelling but dammit, what the hell do you do when your son jumps off a fucking building and plays bait for snipers, Kinta?” _Cry?_ Her brain supplied. “This,” she said waving her right hand vaguely, “is such a mess.”

“We caught someone though,” Kintaro said softly.

The one positive; so far they’d kept the sniper alive. So far they’d stopped two attempts on her life. Aoko was going to go crazy in the next few months as everything came out bit by bit, the whole mess that they were already starting to uncover. “Yeah.”

“It wouldn’t be worth it if we lost Takumi,” Kintaro said, getting to the heart of what was bothering her. “Or Kid.”

“No.” For a horrible moment Aoko thought she really was going to cry. Tears would be justified. Tears would be more than justified considering the mess her life was, but she always felt worse after crying, like it meant she’d failed to measure up to what she tried to be. “If they died...what was the last decade of my life?”

Kintaro set down his drink. “Aoko...”

“Really. The task force works to make sure Kid is arrested, but that means keeping him alive for a court to judge. And Takumi... I know I’ve messed up. I’ve messed up in dozens of ways and I know I’ll keep messing up but I really am trying. I tried to make sure he still had both Kaito and me in his life, that he could follow his interests and succeed...”

“I’m pretty sure every parent reaches the point where their children make choices that are going to scare the shit out of their parents.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Not of this level in most cases,” Kintaro conceded. “I told you my parents were upset about me joining the police force. My mother still calls every time an accident happens at a heist and tries to convince me to take up a position in my father’s company.”

Aoko scrunched her nose. “That’s a little different than tossing yourself off buildings.”

“Yes,” he said, smiling slightly, “but from my mother’s standpoint I imagine she sees it about the same way. Me throwing myself into danger because what I believe in and care about protecting are more important than my wellbeing.”

“So you’re saying I raised an idiot with strong morals,” Aoko joked, voice wobbling as the edge of tears refused to go away.

“You can’t stop what he’s already done, but you can encourage safer ways to help people.”

Aoko hummed. “I think the worst thing about all of this is that he was right. They weren’t going to take the bait.”

They both mulled that over a moment. “How many officers do you have keeping watch over your home, Aoko?” Kintaro asked after a moment.

“Not enough.” Aoko drained the rest of her beer. Wordlessly, Kintaro took her empty can and slid over his mostly full one.

“If you need to let go, go ahead. I think I’ll stay sober this time.”

“You don’t have to play bodyguard,” Aoko said. “They’re not going to kill me tonight. If they’re going to do it, they’ll make it look like an accident, not killing me in my friend’s home.”

“Still, I’d feel better.”

“Always having my back,” Aoko said fondly. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. You and Keiko.”

“You’d still be where you are,” Kintaro said with more faith in Aoko’s abilities than she had for them. “I can only hope I’ve just made it a little easier than it would have been otherwise.”

“Sap.” Aoko gave him a crooked smile and toasted her beer to him. “When I’m crying my eyes out sometime in the next hour, promise you won’t think less of me.”

“Never.”

She believed him. A tiny cynical part of her said she should know better by now than to trust a man that worked in absolutes; Kaito made so many promises he never kept. But Kintaro wasn’t Kaito, and when he looked at her and saw her for who she was, he’d never hidden who he was in return. When he said he’d be there, he always was. And he’d never hidden how he looked at her either.

Aoko couldn’t love as openly as she had with Kaito again. But this, with history and structure built up between them...maybe it was as close as she could get to that feeling again.

Aoko took a drink. She could let go for a little bit knowing someone would catch her when she fell.


	18. So Much For Lacrosse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also in the fallout of ch 29's events.  
> Sorry Takumi, you're grounded til you're 30.

“So. Grounded,” Shiemi said, drumming her feet against Takumi’s headboard.

“Yup.”

“Sucks.”

“Yup.” Takumi hadn’t moved much since he flopped on the bed next to her. He was lucky she was allowed over. He was lucky he was allowed to do anything ever. He was lucky his mother wasn’t hovering over his shoulder this very moment waiting for him to do something stupid and possibly suicidal.

Shiemi leaned her head against him. “Real glad you didn’t die. You’re such a jerk calling me like that though. Did you know I tried to go to where you were only to be turned away by police? And you took freaking hours to call and say you lived. What the heck.”

“Kaa-san took my phone,” Takumi said. He turned, hugging Shiemi like he did when they were kids, full-bodied and unselfconscious. “I don’t know if I fucked up or if I did the right thing yet,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“It could be both,” Shiemi said, hugging him back just as tight. “You fucked up your family relationships pretty bad, but if it helps catch the guys out for Kuroba-ji’s head, then I’d say you did the right thing too. Not everything’s black and white.”

Takumi grunted.

“You know, even if it turns out it was a mistake, you at least made how you feel clear.”

“And how does this say what I feel?” Takumi asked. “Because I don’t even know what I’m feeling lately.”

“That you care about your dad, dummy. Yes, finding out he’s Kid pissed you off, but you still love him and want him to be happy.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, of course.”

Shiemi tapped him between his eyebrows. “Not ‘of course’. Bet you Kuroba-ji’s been worried about that even if he hasn’t said anything. You had a screaming match with him. You two never raise your voices.”

“Guess that’s something we do now. Yell.” It made him feel small inside a bit, thinking about it. Like when he was little and his parents got divorced or all the times he’d had to sit through them yelling on the other side of a wall even if they tried not to do it right in front of him. Like he didn’t have ears. He was the one that didn’t get into the yelling, even if he’d long since stopped trying to keep it from happening.

“Stop being down on yourself. You’ll get things worked out again soon enough.”

“Mm.” Things weren’t going to be the same ever again though, that he was sure. It was too soon to say how things had changed though. “Tou-san is Tou-san, but do you think Kaa-san will forgive me?”

“I think she’s going to be too busy to stay angry long,” Shiemi said. “On the plus side, she talked to my mom yesterday and there was no yelling, crying, or excessive swearing, so...”

“So I pushed her to her limit. Great.”

“Stop moping.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” Shiemi elbowed him, hard. Takumi winced. “She’ll let you see your dad soon, and school is starting up again so you can get updates from Hakuba-sensei before class until then. Plus, school—you’ll have to leave the house for that.”

“No lacrosse though.”

Shiemi rolled her eyes. “I can’t have sympathy when you brought it on yourself with that one.”

“Fair enough...” He sighed. “Can you just stay here and give me pep talks for the rest of my life?”

“Pretty much guaranteed I’ll give you pep talks forever as your best friend, but I’m going to have to protest staying glued to your side. For today’s okay though.”

“Good because I don’t want to move.”

“Take all the time you need.”

“All the time?”

“At least until my stomach or bladder makes demands.”

Takumi smiled.


	19. A Talk

Hiroto was working on his résumé. He didn’t have work with the police investigation putting a stranglehold on files and even if he could have worked, Hiroto wasn’t sure he would have wanted to. The very idea of going back into the office where his boss had held him at gunpoint was more than a bit intimidating. So Hiroto was working on his résumé because there was only so long he could go before he ran out of savings. There was a pretty big chance that his place of employment wasn’t going to exist for much longer too.

He’d considered taking Saguru’s advice and going somewhere else so he wasn’t alone, but.... His parents lived on the other side of the country and he’d put more effort into his job performance than keeping close friendships, and his last close friendship hadn’t exactly panned out how he’d thought it would, so Hiroto had stayed in his Tokyo apartment. Familiar surroundings were calming even if he was still jumping at neighbors slamming doors or the creak of floors settling the way buildings do. Saguru was a text or call away if he really needed someone, and had proven that he’d come if Hiroto needed so he would be fine. Just fine.

Hiroto gritted his teeth and erased another line on his résumé and wrote in a new one. He wasn’t going to get a recommendation letter from his boss so he’d have to make his career to date speak for itself. He tapped the edge of the keyboard, wondering if it was going to be enough.

He flinched at a soft knock at his front door, leaving a jumble of nonsense kana on the page.

There was no one who should be at the door. Hiroto didn’t invite people over often. He hadn’t invited anyone today. Unless it was the police? _Or someone realized what you did and came to silence you_ , Hiroto’s paranoid brain said. His heart sped up. The knock repeated, quiet like the person on the other side didn’t want to be a nuisance.

There was the option of ignoring it. But if it was important, he’d regret that.

Hiroto crossed to the door. For the first time he kind of wished his door had one of those peep holes to see who was on the other side. He opened the door a fraction, not even enough to get a hand through and braced in case someone tried to slam it open. “Who is it?”

“Can I come in?” asked a familiar voice on the other side.

He let out a slow breath. Emi. He opened the door. “I thought you still had a key,” he said, standing in the doorway.

Emi didn’t look like herself. Her shoulders were hunched forward and her clothing was rumpled. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed at all today. She wasn’t wearing makeup. Hiroto had only ever seen her without makeup once, even in all the times she’d slept over. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her not put together like this.

Emi gripped a tote bag like a lifeline and didn’t look him in the face. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to use it. I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

Hiroto stared at her a moment. “I didn’t make you give back the key,” he said finally. It would be a lie to say she was still welcome anytime. But he still wouldn’t leave her high and dry if she ended up needing somewhere to sleep.

“...Can I come in?”

Hiroto stepped to the side. Emi moved past him, shedding her shoes at the genkan and lining them up with care instead of the casual way she usually kicked them off. Her bag slid to sit beside them. She still wouldn’t look directly at him. Hiroto thought he’d be angry to see her, as angry as he’d been when they’d last talked, but he just felt tired. “Why are you here, Emi?”

“I thought we should talk. And... I wanted to apologize.”

“Do you.”

She finally looked at him then, guilt and regret clear as day on her face. Hiroto waited, determined not to cave to that look, not when he wasn’t sure if she meant it or what was behind the apology. “I broke your trust. I did more than that... I hurt someone you cared about for selfish reasons. I just wanted to move my career forward. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Just because I understand why you did it doesn’t make it okay, Emi,” Hiroto said. When they met, back in university, they’d both been broke and determined to chase their dreams. Emi had won him over as fast as anyone. Hiroto knew he trusted too easily, knew he cared too deep too fast sometimes, and he knew that there were people that would take advantage of that. He hadn’t thought Emi would, and that was what hurt most. But if she thought that it would be instantly forgotten because he was someone who was prone to forgive, she would be mistaken.

There were a lot of people that conflated forgiveness with forgetting, and none of them stayed in his life if they betrayed him twice.

“I know,” Emi said quietly. “...I did to him what you were always afraid would happen to you.”

And Hiroto had wondered who else Emi might sacrifice if it meant succeeding. He did believe she didn’t mean to hurt him personally the way it had. He didn’t think she’d even considered all the angles and ways it could hurt him or Saguru before doing it. Either way, she’d done it knowing harm would come out of it. “Was it worth it?” he asked.

Emi laughed like a sob, miserable. “Considering I’m in the middle of a lawsuit and might never write an article again? No.”

It would be in bad taste to point out that she’d jumped headfirst into that. “If it’s any consolation, I’m also probably out of work.”

“You?” Emi scrubbed her face though there weren’t any visible tears, like she was scrubbing off the self-pity probably. “You’re always getting raises and promotions for doing things right.”

Hiroto hesitated for a second, but it wasn’t as if this wasn’t going to hit the papers any day now... And it wasn’t like Emi was going to dive straight into another lawsuit when the first one was bankrupting her. “Ah. I almost got killed by my boss.”

“Like... literally or metaphorically?”

“Literally.”

“What the fuck, Hiro?” Emi blurted, horrified.

“Seems that my job really was too good to be true.” They’d joked about that once, a long time ago when he first got hired. It wasn’t very funny now.

“Are you okay?” She took a step forward, hands hovering in front of her like she wanted to physically look him over to make sure he wasn’t injured.

Hiroto wasn’t up for being touched right now, so he took a step back, waving away her concern. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a bit. Shaken.” More than a bit. He’d looked after his boss’s nephew. He’d subtly _flirted_ a few times. It still had him reeling a bit. “The police are going to be making a statement soon, I think. They can’t exactly hide a whole business being shut down.” The sad thought was that there were probably just as many legitimate jobs as illegal ones that passed through their doors... “I don’t have to tell you not to shout _this_ to the world, right?” he asked a bit pointedly.

Emi flinched. It was petty to feel a bit vindicated by it, but he did all the same. “No. I won’t breathe a word. Just. Holy shit, Hiroto. That had to have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” He laced his fingers together, looked at how the skin went pale when he gripped his hands tight. “Hakuba-san saved me though.” And he’d helped save Saguru.

“Huh. So you’re still...friends?”

“Yes.”

“Just friends?”

“...yes.”

“Then I’m glad you can still be friends.” Emi gave him a wobbly smile. “You could use a few more of those. ...Better friends than me.”

He could say a lot in response to that, from reassurance to something scathing, but he decided not to acknowledge the sideways self-depreciation at all. “Do you want tea?”

“That would be really nice.”

“Okay.” He nodded once. “I’ll make some. And Emi?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re good with résumés, right?”

“Yes...?”

“Since we’re both likely to be jobless in the near future, help me write a good one?”

Emi smiled. “I can do that.” It stretched a bit wider, a spark of her usual confident personality peeking through. “I’ll help you write the best résumés and cover letters! And make up for messing up your relationship too!”

“Stop while you’re ahead,” Hiroto advised. “I can handle relationships on my own.”

“Ok. Not touching dating. But definitely résumés.”

Hiroto left her in the living room, shuffling through her belongings for a notebook while he made tea. Emi would have to prove she really meant her regret but... He thought there was something salvageable there. For now, he was glad to not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write some sort of resolution with Hiroto's character, and well, I realized at some point while brainstorming that he's the sort that would forgive Emi. Probably the only one who'd forgive that level of betrayal of the characters I've written into this story. He makes friends fast, gives too much of himself, and will forgive a lot, but even he has limits so it's not going to be an easy friendship anymore. He's the type to forgive, but he won't forget. :/ I know most people would probably rather see Emi sued and out of work or not at all, but it felt like things needed resolved with her too, and this felt like the most true to character route for them.


	20. Back to Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after chapter 33 and Kaito is back at his apartment

There were several dozen fragments of a brittle clay statue in front of him and Miyu’s K-pop music playing from her work station as she inspected some bird specimen Kaito couldn’t identify for decay and potential pest problems. His hands held his tools as steadily as ever, even with the new scar tissue stretched across the back of them. Life as usual. Only it wasn’t really life as usual because Kaito had Pandora in his pocket after a quick collection exchange with Beika earlier, a complete lack of Kid-related planning going on in the back of his head, and tentatively hopeful plans for a date with his neighbor tonight.

It was funny how everything and nothing could change so fast. Outwardly, Kaito knew he didn’t seem any different than ever. Same smiles, same jokes, same self-depreciating humor about yet another injury to his coworkers. Inwardly he still felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t be over, right? That couldn’t be it? He couldn’t possibly get away with the last decade and a half of illicit double-living, right? But so far he was. So far things were going smoother than he ever thought possible.

Kaito wondered how long it would take to feel real. Or how long it would take for him to feel like he deserved any of the happiness life had brought him lately. Saguru was a gift. He had no idea the half of it, too surprised that Kaito liked him as if it was hard to fall for someone like him. Kaito snorted to himself under the crooning harmony of a Korean boy band. Kaito’d been doomed from the moment Saguru promised not to try and arrest him really. They’d both been a bit too lonely and low on people to trust. It was only natural.

He fit a piece together, grain to grain, interlocking beautifully even after who knew how many years broken. This hadn’t been the life he thought he’d end up in. Kaito thought once that he’d be Kid for a handful of years—maybe not even that long—and go on to be a magician who would bring the Kuroba name back to glory. That said, there was something calming about putting things back together. He broke enough in his lifetime to know the value of repairing. A vase. A statue. A pot. Bit by bit in a puzzle without a picture, that might not ever form a picture, relying on himself to logic the missing pieces into the shape of the whole.

He spent his whole life gathering pieces but wasn’t able to put that puzzle together.

Another piece slotted in place, the curve of an arm that would fit to some part of the torso once he put that back together.

Maybe sometimes you just needed more sets of eyes.

“Ooh, hey, an arm,” Miyu said, leaning against his table. “Looking good.”

“Thanks. It looks like I might actually have most of the pieces for once.” Kaito grinned at her. Wasn’t even forced today either. Funny how not struggling with potential death at every turn made everything a little easier and more genuine. “How’re the birds?”

Miyu grimaced. “Whoever got them had no idea how to take care of them. Beat up pretty bad and more than a little toxic too since they were still using some pretty nasty shit to keep pests out when they were made. I’m going to have to clean everything up.”

“Are they salvageable?”

“We’ll see. I’m not sure I want them contaminating my collection though, you know? Not unless I can get them clean enough to satisfy my parameters.” Kaito nodded, even though he only had a sideways understanding of taxidermy. It wasn’t really something he’d had to look into for any heists. He knew enough that he could pass reasonably as Miyu if he ever had to, but frankly he didn’t share her obsession with dead things.

“So, new K-pop band?”

Miyu snorted. “My sister sent me a new CD of her latest obsession.”

“They sound nice.” Kaito hummed harmony with the singing.

That got him a full laugh. “Wow, I’ve missed that. It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“Don’t run into any more cars ok?” Miyu said, only half joking. “You bring life around here.”

“You could definitely use a bit more life with the company you keep,” Kaito said nodding at the dead birds.

Miyu swatted at him half-heartedly, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We’re glad you’re alright though.”

“I’m always alright.”

“You’re cursed. We get it. Maybe you should see a priest for that little accident problem you have.” Miyu leaned against his chair. “All that bedrest looks like it helped though. Scars aside, you look healthier than I’ve seen you in years.”

“You think?” Kaito touched his face. He’d put a bit of weight on without being able to exercise for so long. And even though he still couldn’t sleep a whole night through, he supposed he got more sleep than he did before.

“Definitely. And you’re smiling more. It’s good.”

Huh. “I guess so.” Kaito studied the bits of statue in front of him. He could see how more would fit together. “So, if I said I have a hot date tonight what would you say?”

“I’d say you’re shitting me, but your smile says otherwise. Spill.”

“The friend you met a while ago?”

“Your kid’s homeroom teacher?” Miyu said, one brow raised and a delighted grin on her face.

“Yep.” Kaito grinned back.

“Hot for teacher,” Miyu fake-whispered with an exaggerated wink.

Kaito snickered. “No, but really. It’s...it’s good. He’s good. I think it will actually be something.”

“Well great.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “About time you did something to make you happy.”

“Excuse you, I’m usually happy!”

“Liar,” she said fondly. “I think I can tell when you’re happy by now. You mean it this time.”

Kaito smile slipped. “Yeah...”

“Bring teacher around any time, ok? We can talk dead things again.” Miyu gave him a little salute and headed back to her work station.

Funny. There were a lot of people seeing through him lately. His masks must be thinner than eggshell these days. Still. Miyu was humming a bit off key to the K-pop, a new pair of gloves and a mask on as she returned to work. He had some good friends. Pieces falling together into a whole that was looking pretty welcoming.

Pandora burned in his pocket. One more piece to take care of.

Well, he’d keep putting these pieces together and see what happened. The end results were usually worth it.


	21. Kid's Retirement Event

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the epilogue. Kaito has destroyed Pandora by this point.

“For Kid to retire, he has to _retire_ ,” Kaito had said to Aoko. And to Saguru. And to...pretty much everyone in the know to convince them this was a good idea. Sure, he’d given police statements by now as disguised as possible. And the news had picked up on that fact despite attempts to keep it under wraps. He could have let Kid fade into obscurity and be one more unsolved mystery as people wondered if he’d lived or died or fallen off the face of the planet.

After eighteen years it felt more fitting to end it with one last show. _One last safe show hopefully,_ Kaito thought to himself as he finished the last few preparations.

Aoko was not happy about this. Nor were Takumi or Saguru, even though Saguru and Aoko both understood why he needed to do this. Hell, Kudo understood why he needed to do this because Kudo had ended his double life with a spectacle too. It was the only fitting way to end Kid, and Kaito rather thought his father would have approved. Start with a show, end with a show, leave them wondering for years if it was real or not. Save the mystery but make the show’s end clear on a high note.

The 200th heist had not been a high note.

The injuries from his crash had long healed and he’d rehabilitated almost back to where he was before. Not quite all the way, he’d never have quite the same amount of strength in his arm or a leg free of twinges, but aches and pains were par for the course really; he’d abused his body enough over the years that he had no illusions about the hell old age would be one day. His hands had their dexterity, his body was as flexible at thirty-five as it had been at twenty-five because he’d never let it deteriorate (and hadn’t that been a hell of a thing to get back when he could move fully again. Aging hips did not like doing splits anymore.)

This would be it. One last flash-bang for the road to leave them dazzled and seal Kid into urban mythos forever. Kaito’s fingers fiddled with a long line of fuses. He’d always known he’d be glad to retire, but he’d thought he’d feel more reluctance to part from the adrenaline rush and show-high that Kid’s spotlight gave him. But what was waiting for him—another shot at Aoko’s friendship, days not filled with frantic research and information networks, time spent relaxing with his son, future dates with Saguru to spring upon the detective to add spontaneity to his life... God, he wished he’d had a chance to retire sooner.

The fuses clipped into place. He’d light them with a remote button to get the timing just right. Two hundred fireworks for two hundred heists. Tokyo would get a little mid-winter show.

He donned Kid’s hat and monocle before sliding on the gloves. It was an old suit, well mended and not as white as it had once been because some stains never came out no matter how hard he tried, but no one was going to notice that. There was a tremor of nerves running through him that he hadn’t felt in a while but if it was because last time he wore Kid’s suit he’d almost died or because he was dreadfully out of practice at pulling on Kid’s mask, he wasn’t sure. (The former, who was he kidding, or course it was the former.) Mask on, a grinning jester’s face that invited mischief. Check the mic on him, a crackle of soft static in his earpiece, the hidden speakers around his stage silent for a bit longer. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Kid strode to his starting point; _enter, stage left_.

There had been a note, there’d had to be a note with the copycats that popped up in the last six months, just a time and a place. No riddle, no games. The police had been through their ranks enough that it felt safe to do. That didn’t stop the instinctual part of his brain from a tiny moment of panic as he appeared in the spotlight. That was Kaito though.

Kid felt the weight of eyes on him and grinned wider. His breath fogged the winter air as dozens upon dozens of faces lifted to see him perched on the clock tower. He’d chosen here because it meant something. Because he’d met Aoko here, and saved this tower with a heist, and now he’d end Kid here.

“Ladies and Gentlemen and Officers of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department!” Kid said, voice echoing from his hidden speakers around the open space. He paused to let them yell and shriek his name because his fans knew the real deal when they saw it. “It seems,” he continued, the crowd quieting to listen obediently, “that there have been some rumors of my death over the last few months. Clearly false, as you can see. Despite others’ best efforts, Kid has lived on. Unfortunately,” Kid said with heavy dramatics, “it is time for Kid’s final curtain call.” There was a veritable wave of whispers, a fog of unease rippling through his eager crowd. “All good shows come to an end,” he said gently. Out in the crowd, the police were moving for him. A helicopter was nearby and there was a moment of déjà vu, standing here with a gem in his hand and Kudo staring down the barrel of a gun in his direction. Kudo didn’t have a gun aimed at him tonight, though. “I leave you, beloved audience, dear critics, with one final show, a last finale. No theft tonight, only goodbyes.”

This was where he was most vulnerable, three steps out and up into what appeared to be open air. No shots came. Kaito internally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for seeing me through the years,” Kid—Kaito—said to the people before him. “I hope that if you think of me, you’ll believe that there is magic in the world.”

A press of the button, police swarming the clock tower, Kid tipping forward into an explosion of doves and mirrored confetti. Above, fireworks exploded into bright, colorful lights, and Kid’s uniform fluttered down to the ground in a heap, empty but for a single calling card with an apology for not returning Pandora.

The final firework exploded in the shape of Kid’s caricature. From his hiding place, Kaito listened to the police climbing through the clock tower and the chaos in the crowd below. Little by little, he pulled Kid’s mask away and let it drop somewhere in his mind. It would be easy to find again if he wanted to, but Kaito didn’t plan on pulling it back out again.

He laughed silently to himself. So. It was over. For real this time. He could live without Kid. It was about damn time.

Later, much later, after the police cleared out and the scent of gunpowder from the fireworks cleared away, Kaito crawled out of his hiding spot and into the clock engine room. He wasn’t terribly surprised that Saguru was there waiting for him, sitting below the mass of gears and workings like he had been there for some time and would comfortably have sat there longer. It was cold as heck even in the engine room.

“You didn’t have to wait,” Kaito said, jumping down to his side.

Saguru caught one of Kaito’s hands, warmed it between his own. “I wanted to be here for you after. How do you feel?”

“Hmm.” Kaito prodded the emotions from the last few hours. “Lighter. I feel like I really could fly if I wanted to.”

“Let’s not test that,” Saguru said, dry humor appreciated. Kaito pulled him to his feet and Saguru came, slowly. They were both getting old, so old, all aches and pains and all the bullshit that came with every year past thirty and living life a bit too harshly.

“You don’t think I could do it?” Kaito teased. He let Saguru balance on him until he had his cane settled.

“Kaito, if anyone could manage to learn to fly, I would believe you could,” Saguru said.

“I’ll pencil in a flight attempt.”

“So long as you come out of it intact.”

“Of course. Naturally I’ll take precautions.”

Saguru shook his head, but he was smiling so that was a win for Kaito.

“It’s really over,” Kaito said, looking at where their hands were clasped together, the scars on his hands somehow all the more noticeable next to Saguru’s.

“Yes.”

Kaito let that sink through him again. It still felt good. He’d need to tell himself that every now and again until eventually he’d believe it inside and out. He tugged Saguru toward the stairs. “I am going to need a lot of new hobbies.”

“The ones from the last few months aren’t enough?”

“You can never have too many hobbies,” Kaito said, only half-joking.

“Maybe we should do a hobby together,” Saguru said.

Kaito grinned to himself. Yeah, he was definitely in love with this man. “Knitting?”

“Not exactly what I was thinking, but...”

“Hmm, playing Go? Birdwatching? Or maybe gardening—but not really the best considering we live in apartments.”

“There’s plenty of time to try things until we find something we both like.”

Which meant Saguru definitely would be sticking around long term. Which meant he saw them together in the future. Which still filled Kaito with a quiet kind of joy he didn’t have words for whenever Saguru did or said something that emphasized it.

Kaito linked his arm with Saguru’s. “All the time in the world.”


	22. Phantom Lady with Vermouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before chapter 18  
> today's chapter posted early because I don't have internet at home and I'm on my lunch break ^_^;

Chikage with Vermouth

Kuroba Chikage had visited cities around the world in her lifetime, seeing some of the most beautiful places of human creation and some of its worst and seediest underbellies. Chicago was neither the best nor the worst of these cities, but it did have some pretty views and architecture. From her hotel room, she could look out over the Chicago river; it was especially pretty lit up at night, lights glinting off shifting waters and along the underside of bridges. She always did like cityscapes though. It didn’t have the romantic charm of Paris or the dazzling neon of Vegas, but she’d take Chicago in early summer over Orlando this time of year.

Chikage watched the river lights now, little moving ones of the ferries on the water, and the blur of cars passing by to places unknown. So many people, so many of them unaware of crimes happening right under their noses, maybe even right at that very moment. Chicago might not be the crime capitol of America, but it was one of the prime locations for crime hubs, being smack in the middle of North America, close enough to Canada for crime to hop borders and stop in on its way elsewhere, or link between the east and west coasts. A perfect foothold for an underground organization to set down roots in to better spread tendrils. They were planted a bit over a decade ago, and Chikage had kept an eye on their growth since not long after its inception.

It was about time that that growth could be tapped again for new information.

The click of the electric lock on the hotel room door interrupted her quiet contemplation. A brunette carrying two large paper bags shouldered into the room moments later, the keycard dangling from her fingertips.

“You wouldn’t believe how busy it is out there right now,” the woman said, kicking off tennis shoes that matched her grey and pink jogging suit. “You’d think it was a holiday, but it’s already past July fourth.”

“Chris,” Chikage said in greeting. She took one of the offered bags. Predictably, it had a large salad from a nearby restaurant.

“I think I passed two different groups out on bachelorette parties,” Chris Vineyard continued. She tugged at her hair, pulling off the brown wig she’d taken to wearing for this operation. “Want to go out and join them? I think they’re drunk enough that a couple of strange women would fit right in.” Tossing the wig aside, she pulled a bottle of wine and two boxes out of the other bag. “I got a nice white wine and some tiramisu from that Italian place you like. I’ve been told the dessert’s on the boozy side.”

“That kind of defeats the point of getting a salad,” Chikage pointed out.

“We only live once!” Chris said, tossing herself into one of the hotel armchairs. Her sock feet kicked up on the windowsill. “Besides, you both know we’ll be working it off soon enough anyway.”

“You always say that,” Chikage said. Her smile belied her words though. “Did you finish everything you needed to do?”

“Completely done,” Chris said. She pulled a wine opener from somewhere and got to work on the bottle. Chikage fetched them glasses and forks, both taken from earlier room service calls that week and hoarded for future use. “Everything is prepared to get us in and out of the building in two days. Their security is pathetic. We should have an easy time with this one.”

“Wonderful.” Chikage would take easy. They’d had more than enough close calls over the years that easy would be a fucking vacation. “That makes just one more run and I can go home for a bit. It feels like ages since I’ve been in Japan.”

“Can you call it home when you’re never there?” Chris asked, a slanted smile on her face. Chikage rolled her eyes. “Just saying. You’re with me more than you’re at the Japan home these days.”

“I own it, it has my belongings in it, I raised my son in it and lived half a dozen years with my husband there. It’s still home.” The wine was dry, more to Chris’s taste than Chikage’s, but the fruitiness of it came through pleasantly enough. It went well with the strawberries and pecans in the salad. “Just because you gave up the concept of home that doesn’t mean I have.”

“Mm, maybe my concept of home is more a person than a place,” Chris said lazily. She stole a bit of salad off Chikage’s fork.

A decade ago it would have been flustering, but by now it only made Chikage feel fondly exasperated. “Use your own fork.” Chris stole the whole salad instead. She was terrible, Chikage thought. Terrible, horrible, and dangerous as hell, and Chikage wouldn’t have anyone else at her back. “Kaito’s been in all kinds of trouble since I left.”

“Is this including getting his arms cut up or the heavy landing he took at the last heist?”

“Mm, either. I’m more thinking about the company he’s keeping honestly.”

“Right, a detective.” Chris sipped at her wine, lounging like a jungle cat and twice as lethal if she wanted to be. “And not Cool Guy.” She sighed.  “They would have made such a dynamic team if they’d ever got their shit together.”

Chikage shrugged, having mixed feelings about that. While Yuusaku and Yukiko’s son was a good person, she’d heard enough about Kaito’s close calls with him to feel comfortable with the thought. That was part of her hesitation with Hakuba Saguru, no matter how polite he had been in the phone conversation they had a few weeks ago. Chikage could still remember him facing off against Kaito when they were teenagers; she wasn’t going to say anything to Kaito or Hakuba, but she could worry about potential betrayal. “Did I go wrong somewhere?” Chikage mused. “He marries a police officer and makes friends with detectives. Is he just attracted to people with strong moral compasses? Is it the uniforms? Enjoys mind games?”

Chris laughed. “Well, I imagine it would be easy to fall into role play...”

“Stop. I am not going to think that hard about my son’s sex life.”

“You brought it up,” Chris said, hiding another smile in her wine glass.

“Yes. Well.” She waved a hand. “I find it a bit worrying that the people he gets attached to always seem to be the ones who are in positions to hurt him worst. I don’t care if Hakuba Saguru is retired, you don’t turn that sort of skill off.” Not thieving, not detective work, and it wasn’t like Chris could turn off the part of her that looked for weaknesses and places that would cause the most damage. It was how they were wired even if they quit the business. Chikage took a decade off from theft and look at her now; skills still sharp as she prepared to break into a building for information that wasn’t hers.

“If he meant to turn him in, he’d have done it by now,” Chris said, entirely unconcerned. But she’d said the same about Aoko after the divorce, so it was probably true.

Chikage’s phone pinged with an incoming text and she leaned toward the bed stand to get it. “Speaking of Kaito...” The text was just a date and time with a question as to if she would be home by then. It was less than two weeks away. “He has the date of his next heist.”

“Oh?” Chris leaned over. “Hm. That’s around when we have that time sensitive thing in—”

“New York,” Chikage finished. Her nails clicked on the phone casing as she drummed her fingers. Chris rescued Chikage’s wine before her lax grip on it let the glass slide from her hand. Chikage pressed the call button. If Kaito was awake to text, he was awake to call.

“Hi, Kaito?” she said as he picked up. “How likely are you to need me for the heist?” Chris stole bits of salad as Chikage listened to Kaito’s response; the usual downplaying of his need for help. That didn’t really make her feel any better about the situation. Kaito would say he could handle it eight out of ten times, even if he had his back to a wall with a gun pointed at him. The only time he asked for help was if he truly didn’t feel he had a chance to pull a heist off alone or she caught him at just the right moment and mindset for him to admit the reality of what he had planned and where it would benefit from another set of hands. “No, no, I’m asking because I need to know if I should try to move up my schedule.”

Another deflection. Chikage bit her lip and caught Chris’s eye. Chris raised one manicured eyebrow.

 _How likely is it to move things up?_ Chikage mouthed.

Chris shrugged and wiggled her hand, open palm down. _Fifty-fifty._

Not good enough. But if they passed up New York, they would be passing up one of the current largest international hub points for the organization, and Chikage hadn’t managed to get anything vital from there when she tried alone five years ago. With Chris, with their informant ready to abandon their position as soon as the transfer of information was complete—or as soon as their escape plan came into effect and they became a veritable ghost—there was a huge chance at hitting the largest vital info tap this decade. This could be the one that got what they finally needed to tear the whole place apart from the inside out.

“I’m not sure I can make it,” Chikage said, hating herself just a bit. Her son was brilliant, but he was one man. Toichi had been one man once, but even Toichi had had Chikage and Jii at his back. All it took was one moment for everything to go wrong and she knew that. If Kaito wanted, no, _needed_ her there, she’d be there, operation be damned because she might not protest his risks, but she wanted him to live to see old age too. She couldn’t lose him when she’d lost Toichi.

Kaito chattered on in her ear about his preparations and how he had everything more or less ready to go already and really, he’d be fine. He didn’t ask her to come. Chikage wasn’t sure he would ask if he really did need her anymore though. Things like that kept her awake at night. It was nights after she stole information that she slept the best, because those were the days she knew she’d done something to strike out at the shadow looming over them.

“Ok, Kaito,” she said finally, aware of Chris watching and the way a hotel room, no matter how nice, could never quite feel like home. “If something changes, I’ll let you know. Be careful.”

When Chikage hung up the phone, Chris handed her the salad and the glass of wine, filled over the usual amount.

“He’s a smart kid,” Chris offered like smarts would be enough.

Chikage took a large swallow of wine. “We need to push up the dates. As much as we can.”

Chris sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

The happy mood from earlier was gone; the wine left a sour taste at the back of Chikage’s throat.

***

They’d tried to move up New York. Tried being key, because everything had gone to hell complete with flames. Chris was injured, bleeding from a bullet graze on her thigh, and some idiot had managed to set the lab on fire in the rush to catch intruders.

They were two days _behind_ the original planned schedule, down an informant, and caught in a building that was quickly becoming a hazard. Chikage was going to shoot whoever they came across next, consequences be damned.

“You would think,” Chris said, “that they would be more worried about getting out of the building than catching us.”

Around them the fire alarm flashed and blared high pitched shrieks. It made stealth easier, but that was a two-edged sword when it meant they could be snuck up on.

“You’d think,” Chikage agreed, gritting her teeth. On the other side of the globe, her son was starting his day, about to go into a risky endeavor and there was no way at all she was going to be able watch his back now. If only they’d been able to pull off Chicago as easily as it seemed. If only their informant hadn’t pushed the date back. If only he hadn’t ended up _dead_ , but those were just a few more ‘if only’s to add to a lifetime of them. Chikage couldn’t get bogged down by could-have-beens when there was enough now to drown in. “Do you think you can get anything from that computer in the corner or should we just call everything a wash and try to get out in one piece?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Chris said, tossing her head. The effect was ruined by how sweat made her hair stick to her face, but Chikage could appreciate the intent. They weren’t quite out of luck yet.

Chikage took the door while Chris took the computer.  Chris was better with them than Chikage, but they both knew how to hack. The program in Chris’s flash drive circumnavigated the firewall easily enough. If only there wasn’t the actual fire encroaching on them. Smoke fizzled under the doorway in hazy eddies. “I am too old for this,” Chikage muttered to herself. The scientists must have evacuated from this part of the lab. Between the fire alarm and the earlier fighting, she didn’t blame them.

There was movement in the hallway, a man with a gun, but he kept walking past the closed lab door, probably thinking they’d continued on in an effort to escape. That or he was running from the fire like a sane person.

“We’re going to die of smoke inhalation, not even something exciting.”

“Quit being dramatic,” Chris said, typing away. “I think I can get something from here. It’s not going to be as big as what we wanted; this is only a research terminal, not an upper management computer, but it will be something. There are probably human testing trials in here somewhere.”

“Something to get more investigating done on this place at any rate. That’s more than we had before.”

“Good enough.” Chris glanced at the smoke curling under the door and back at the monitor. “Give me five minutes.”

“Might not have that long,” Chikage said, voice tight. Flames licked the end of the hallway from what she could see in the small door window. It was getting hard to breathe and the temperature was rapidly rising. There was smoke starting to filter down from the air vents too... “Fuck, Chris I think it’s spreading faster through the air ducts.”

Chris didn’t answer. Her lips were white where they pressed together. Chikage hoped she’d be able to run on that leg injury.

There was an ominous creaking sound from further in the building.

“And we are going to have to go. I think something’s caving in.”

“Not yet,” Chris snapped. “If I don’t get something then what’s the point of all of this?”

“There’s no point at all if we don’t live to see another day,” Chikage reminded her, already abandoning the door to hustle closer. There was a second door that led to an adjacent room, and they’d have to take that door and hope the hallway was marginally clearer there. “Come on.”

“A few more seconds,” Chris said, stubborn to the end.

The ceiling groaned, smoke from the vents making the room start to go hazy.

“Now,” Chikage said, grabbing Chris’s arm.

Chris hit one last key and snatched the flash drive from the tower. “It’ll be what it’ll be, let’s go.”

Chikage dragged her through the door. The next room was marginally less smoky, but not by much. “There’s still some flames in the hall,” she said. Damn.

“Not like we have a choice.”

“They’re going to be waiting for us outside.”

Chris grinned like that was a challenge. Of course she did. She plucked an explosive from her pocket, more bang and smoke than destruction, but their thoughts were in the same direction.

“They’re looking for two women,” Chikage said.

“So we disappear in the chaos.”

Plan settled, they darted out into the hallway. Heat battered at them and smoke choked the air even as they moved almost bent in half. They ran. Chris threw her bomb. Screams sounded and the building groaned and crackled where places collapsed behind them. This plan, at least, went off without a hitch.

***

In the end, they were both covered in bruises, suffering minor smoke inhalation problems, and Chris had picked up another bullet graze in the chaos. Chikage bandaged her in an apartment building stairwell a long ways away from their hotel room. It wasn’t safe to go back there yet, not when they didn’t know whether that had been compromised or not. It was hours since the burning building and it would be hours more before Chikage could get to her phone to check her messages. There was nothing that could be done about it, so Chikage didn’t let herself think about anything more than what was in front of her.

In front of her was Chris, face pinched with discomfort, a slapdash med-kit gathered from three different drug stores, and a quick-mart bag of granola bars and water to tide their stomachs over.

Chris turned the flash drive of data she’d gotten around and around in her palm. Disappointed. They both were disappointed. “Should have expected things would go that bad,” Chris sighed.

Chikage smeared antibiotic ointment into the bullet graze on Chris’s thigh. “We can’t plan for everything no matter how hard we try. I admit I wasn’t expecting our inside man to suicide...”

“Is it suicide when he was cornered?” Chris said. She clicked her tongue and tucked the flash drive away. Her irritated expression didn’t change even as Chikage started winding bandages around her thigh, holding a gauze pad in place. “I guess that’s one more time New York won. Hopefully the data we got will be useful to someone. It’s enough to get the...FBI? CIA? Who handles something like human experimentation in the US?” She shrugged. “Someone can use it and it’s a foot in the door for having a reason to check into every nook and cranny that facility has. Who knows, maybe the fire helped too.”

“They’ll have all the local authorities in their pocket and you know it,” Chikage muttered.

“I was trying for optimism,” Chris said. She caught Chikage’s hands as she finished tying off the bandage. “Let me get your scrapes. I noticed that burn on your arm too.”

Chikage held still and let her. Nothing hurt badly, but there wasn’t really a reason to court infection. “Can we call today a wash and go find somewhere to sleep before breaking into our own hotel room?”

“I can do the breaking in if you’d like. Give you a rest.”

“Chris, you’re hurt worse than I am,” Chikage said.  “I just want to sleep, then check my phone for Kaito’s post-heist message, and a stairwell isn’t prime sleeping space.” Especially not when she was past fifty. Aging sucked. Meanwhile Chris barely aged at all thanks to some chemical cocktail experiment she’d been part of years ago. An experiment that lingered in some of the things they stole, not that Chris had been with that group since the major split and definitely not since her branch of it had been busted by Yukiko’s kid. Immortality was an overrated concept and the realities that had come out of searching for it weren’t as ideal as their creators would have desired.

“Fine, fine.” Chris sighed. “The mail box for apartment 324 looked like it was overflowing. Either the owner went on a trip and forgot to stop their mail, or they’re dead. Either way their apartment is someplace to sleep.”

“Really, Chris?”

“You’re not _that_ squeamish about corpses.”

“But we could walk right into a crime scene. Or they could just chronically forget their mail.”

“I’ll take that risk,” Chris said. She stood, stiffly, her injuries apparent now that she wasn’t running anymore. She offered Chikage a hand.

Chikage took it. “I guess we could always gas the owner and find a nice closet to hole up in,” she muttered. “But if there is a corpse in there I swear to god I am not following whatever next impulsive choice you make.”

“It’s not impulse, it’s calculation. And my calculation is that we both need some fucking sleep.”

***

Almost twelve hours later, Chikage dragged herself from a stolen apartment bed to drink from a kitchen faucet and raid poorly stocked cupboards. Then she dragged Chris from where she slept like the dead and moved them both out of the apartment. Besides the missing food and blankets that carried a bit of their scent, they left no evidence behind; the apartment owner (who thankfully hadn’t been a dead body in a corner) probably wouldn’t even notice they’d been there.

“All things considered,” Chris said as they made their way back to their hotel room—disguised of course—“it’s pretty unlikely that they found where we were staying. We didn’t check in as ourselves _or_ wear our faces on the job.”

“But they know our methods by this point, so better safe than sorry.” An empty hotel hallway, a swipe of the keycard to get in their empty room. Chikage checked for traps or signs that the room was bugged. All she found was their own surveillance equipment and a phone charger someone must have forgotten shoved between the wall and the mattress. 

“I’d say you’re paranoid, but I’m also paranoid,” Chris said. Her wounds didn’t seem to bother her much, but they never did.

Chikage thought it was another side effect of the experiments; her own bruises were settling into the deep purple phase where even moving sent twinges of discomfort shooting through her. As Chris moved to her laptop to start going through the data they’d stolen, Chikage went for her phone.

There were four messages there and one voicemail. None of the messages were from Kaito. Chikage closed her eyes. A part of her that felt like it had been battered too many times braced for the worst. She’d lost her husband. She’d lost friends and her parents. That deep part of her wavered, unsure if losing her son would finally make her break.

She listened to the voicemail first.

 _“Chikage-basan,_ ” Aoko’s voice said, sounding exhausted and strained. _“There was an accident at the heist. Accident... Well. Attack. A bomb went off at the museum and according to eye witness reports, Kid’s glider went down during his escape. I don’t think it was a dummy, but I was stuck dealing with the bomb aftermath and a panicked crowd so I don’t know yet what happened... Shit. Sorry.”_ Her voice broke on the other end. _“I’m heading home but I had to call. I’ll message or call when I learn more.”_

The line beeped, asking what she wanted to do with the message. Chikage hung up. The call was from four hours ago. The most recent text was...two hours ago. There were several from Aoko, the first essentially the same as her phone message, the second a panicked one about Takumi not being home, and a third stating that Takumi was with Hakuba and the two of them had seen Kid shot down and helped him. Kaito was alive—Chikage’s knees went weak reading the words—but injured.

She closed her eyes and breathed. She didn’t break.

The last message was from Hakuba, strictly to the point. It gave a list of Kaito’s injuries and assurance that he was being cared for, though outside of a hospital. He didn’t say where Kaito was at—understandable; texting was possible to track—but she could probably narrow it down. All she had to do was get back to Japan, then figure out where Kaito was, and _then_ see him face to face to assure herself that yes, her son wasn’t dead. No, he hadn’t been taken like Toichi and Jii.  Her hands gripped her phone so tight she half thought she’d shatter her screen.

“`Kage?” Chris asked, the usually lighthearted nickname sharp with concern.

“Kaito’s still alive, but he was hurt bad. Badly enough he didn’t send his post-heist text and if he was anyone else he’d probably have a broken neck or be a smear on the pavement.” Her legs did give out then, and she crouched on the floor, lungs tight, as Chris abandoned her laptop in favor of taking Chikage’s hands in hers. “Shit, Chris.” There’d been dozens of close calls over the years. Dozens. It didn’t get easier. It didn’t feel any less like she’d missed a step going down the stairs, heart still catching up with the fact that she didn’t fall. “I should have been there. I could have done something.”

“Or they could have done the exact same thing and you could both be hurt,” Chris said, voice even and blank. No emotion, while Chikage was too full of it right now.  “If you went it would have been me going alone into New York, and then I’d be worse off or dead, and we might have had nothing.”

“I know.” She did know, rationally, that her presence wasn’t likely to have changed much. Or maybe they’d have both been targets. Or maybe not. But she could have been there, perhaps could have helped Kaito get to safety firsthand. She took another breath. No, there was no point to what ifs since it wasn’t what was. She’d learned that with Toichi, and learned it again when she found out Jii had been killed. The dead were past helping and so she’d just have to focus on the positive fact that Kaito was still alive. “I have to get back to Japan.”

Chris gave her hands a squeeze. “You sit here and breathe. I can take care of the details for that.”

“I can’t just sit here, I need to do something!”

“Then breathe _and_ get your shit together. Literal and metaphorical.”

“Fuck you, Chris,” Chikage said, but there was no bite in it.

Chris smirked and headed back to her laptop. “Shoo. I’ve got this.”

“Ugh. This had to happen while I was in New York. Why couldn’t it be Vegas? Or San Diego?” That was hours and hours of time that would be lost in layovers and flight transfers and getting across a continent before she could even consider getting across the ocean.

“Breathe,” Chris reminded her, typing rapidly. “I’m glad your kid didn’t die.”

“I’m too old for this shit,” Chikage said. She made her legs work and walked over to her suitcase. It was mostly still packed, but she started tossing every item that was hers within an arm’s reach into it.

“You’re not even sixty yet.”

“Too. Old.” There was no age that losing her son wouldn’t be devastating. They might only spend time together sporadically, but he was Kaito, her Kaito, and he always would be.

“You have a flight in three hours to Chicago and a connecting flight to California. It’s a hop to Hawaii, then Japan. That’s the best I could do for short notice.”

Chikage scrunched a shirt in her fists. Breathe. “Thanks, Chris.”

“Any time,” Chris said. “Always.”

Someday maybe Chikage would be able to believe in an always. Chris, with her unchanging nature and appearance was about as close to a constant as Chikage had. Chikage breathed and finished packing her bags. She had a plane to catch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say I ended up shipping it a bit. Just a little >_>;;;; Wasn't planned but sometimes that's how it goes. I'd love to read Chikage and Chris having a world trip causing chaos and stealing important data, but I don't think I'll be writing it.


	23. Hanae on a Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before chapter 20

 

Kaitou Kid wasn’t exactly what Hanae had been expecting. The great Moonlit Magician that had evaded capture for longer than she’d been alive, master of a thousand faces, puzzle master supreme—and he was a guy that looked barely a step above some of the murder victims her family’d run into. Not that that meant he wasn’t still everything the stories built him up to be. He was injured, so it wasn’t like he was going to just hop up and start making roses appear...or whatever it was that he conjured...but she’d thought that there’d be a bit more to him than the very ordinary and mortal looking man in one of the spare bedrooms.

Kaa-san wasn’t too happy that she and Midori went and looked at Kid. But what Kaa-san didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and it was amazing how much a little sneaking around after a day or two of pretending to be good could get you ahead. Hanae might not be a Kid fan like some of her classmates but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. For goodness sake, she lived with parents that encouraged curiosity. It was easy to sneak out of her bedroom and off downstairs. Kaa-san and Tou-san were in the study—she’d seen the light from her bedroom. That meant she could sneak off and look at Kid and come back with no one being the wiser.

Her classmates would be so jealous if they knew. Not that Hanae would tell them. She was ten, not stupid. She’d hoard the story until she was in her twenties and post it on some anonymous site and enjoy watching people tear themselves between belief and picking apart the story. It would be great.

Behind her a board creaked followed by a soft scuff.

Hanae rolled her eyes. She went past the stairs and turned the corner, waiting for soft footsteps to reach her before grabbing her sister with a hand over her mouth. “Midori!” she hissed.

Midori froze before struggling, jabbing with her elbows like Kaa-san taught them. Hanae let go. “You’re going to see Kid!” she whisper-shouted, pointing at Hanae, because unlike Hanae _someone_ hadn’t learned how to actually be quiet.

“Yeah, and?”

“And we’re not supposed to! Take me with you.”

Hanae rolled her eyes again. “You’ll get us caught!”

“I could get us caught now,” Midori said and sucked in a breath.

Hanae slammed a hand over her sister’s mouth before she could start yelling. “Shhh! Then we’ll both get yelled at! Ow!” Midori bit her. Hanae yanked her hand back, scowling at the round teeth marks in the center of her palm.

“You don’t even like Kid,” Midori said, almost at a proper whisper this time. “I do. Take me with you.”

Hanae wanted to argue, but she could see the stubborn jut of Midori’s jaw and knew it would end in either yelling or hair pulling if she did, and they really would get caught that way. “Fine. But you better be really quiet.”

Midori grinned.

“And follow exactly where I walk. The boards squeak.”

“I can do that, c’mon, c’mon, I want to look at him again.”

“Ugh...” If Kaa-san _and_ Tou-san ended up yelling at them, Hanae was going to replace all of Midori’s ‘hidden’ candy stash with Kaa-san’s gross sugar free ones. All of it. “Come on then.”

Kid was sleeping, just a pale, bandaged man in a moon-lit bed. Hanae turned on the bedside lamp with a tap to its side, the warm glow highlighting the bandages and throwing half Kid’s face into shadow. He had on a flimsy cloth mask, like something from a party store, and between it and the bandages, his face was mostly covered. Behind her, Midori was breathing too loudly like she did when she was extra focused on something. Hanae reached out toward the mask.

“Hanae-nee, no!” Midori said, grabbing her arm. “You can’t take off his mask!”

“I’m just curious!” Hanae hissed back. This was the man that evaded police capture for decades; to be someone who’d seen his face...

Midori puffed up her cheeks, scowling. “Tou-san left it on. If he’s not gonna look at Kid’s face, then we can’t either!”

She stared Midori down. Midori stared back. There wasn’t any out-stubborning Midori. Well, not without probably ending up getting tackled and then they’d make a lot of noise and they’d get caught. Pity. Hanae could have written that she’d seen Kid’s face one day. No, better, that she’d unmasked him. The temptation lingered, but it would have to be another day maybe. “Fine, but I want to get a closer look.”

“How about you both look from where you are,” a sleep-rough voice said.

They squeaked, Hanae grabbing Midori before she realized that it was Kid’s voice and Kid’s face staring blearily at them through the mask’s eyeholes.

“Shouldn’t you two be in bed at this hour?” Kid asked.

“Ye—no—s,” they said over top of each other.

Hanae let Midori go. “Midori, he’d know if we were lying.” She was pretty sure phantom thieves had about the same lie detecting skills as police officers and her parents.

“Duh, but you don’t have to say it,” Midori said.

Kid smiled. “The principle of the matter, hmm?” he said.

“Right.” Midori nodded. “Are you feeling better, Kid-san?”

“A little bit,” Kid said. “Your parents are being very nice letting me stay here.”

“Yeah,” Hanae muttered, “cuz it could get them arrested too.” It was funny that they’d let him stay. On one hand it went against the law-abiding morality they swore by. On the other...on the other Hanae remembered her father talking about how you didn’t push criminals to hurt themselves. That they were a life too, and detectives helped save lives or bring justice for the ones they couldn’t save. It fit that Tou-san would want to save Kid in that sense. And Hanae wasn’t blind; obviously there was someone who wanted Kid dead and a murderer ranked higher than a thief in priority levels. Of course Tou-san would put Kid’s health above arresting him and catching a murderer before catching a mostly harmless thief. That didn’t mean she _liked_ Kid.

“No one’s gonna be arrested because it’s all a secret,” Midori said with the flawed logic of a second grader. From a fifth grade perspective, Hanae thought it was kind of short sighted because obviously secrets leaked. If they didn’t, there wouldn’t be a new rumor every day of the week at school. “And we’re not gonna tell.”

“You don’t have to tell a secret for it to get out,” Hanae said. “It’s stupid that we have to keep a secret for a thief.” Not that she wouldn’t keep him a secret. It just was stupid that they had to in the first place.

“Kid’s not just a thief though!” Midori argued, getting a little bit louder.

Her own sister. A Kaitou Kid fan. Sometimes she wondered how they were even related. “He steals things. Thief.”

“ _Phantom_ thief!”

“Adding ‘Phantom’ on doesn’t mean anything! A thief’s a thief!”

“He gives them back!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Girls,” Kid cut in and Hanae winced as she realized they’d both been almost shouting. Oops. “How about I tell you a story and you go back to bed, hmm? Save the moral questions about whether or not I’m evil for another day.”

Hanae and Midori sized each other up. Hanae imagined her someday future internet post and being able to say that _Kaitou Kid_ told her a bedtime story. Morals aside, she wasn’t going to pass that up. “Truce?” she asked.

“Truce,” Midori said. “And you’re not evil, Kid-san. Evil people hurt people and you don’t do that.”

Kid smiled again, and Hanae couldn’t tell what kind of smile it was, a happy one or one of those smiles adults got when children said something they thought was cute in a sad way. It didn’t quite look happy even if it reached Kid’s eyes behind that mask. “Thank you,” Kid said. “One bedtime story, okay?”

Hanae and Midori nodded, settling on the floor by Kid’s bed. He closed his eyes for a second, then started talking.

“Once upon a time, there was a witch. She was a very strong and beautiful witch, and everyone who met her fell under her spell...”

Hanae found herself caught up in the story as Kid continued. He didn’t gesture, or speak very loud, but somehow it was like he was weaving a spell over them, just like the witch in his story could do. Hanae couldn’t have stopped listening if she wanted to.

“...and the witch had finally found what made her happy. So the witch and her daughters lived happily ever after.” Kid said.

Hanae blinked as his voice stopped. Beside her, Midori kept staring up at him, mouth open.

“Another,” Midori breathed. “Please, please tell another?”

This time Kid’s smile was definitely real. “One story was the promise for tonight,” Kid said, “but that doesn’t mean there couldn’t be another tomorrow.”

“Please,” Midori repeated. She tugged on Hanae’s hand. “We can sneak back tomorrow, right?”

Hanae let out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah we can do that. Promise?” she asked Kid.

“On my honor,” Kid said too seriously to be serious.

Hanae frowned. “What honor?”

“Ouch. Careful, Ojou-chan or you’re going to hurt someone with those words of yours.”

“Can’t get more hurt by words than you already are,” Hanae pointed out.

Kid laughed, then winced. Oh. Right, he was really injured. Hanae felt a squirming lump of guilt in her stomach. They should have just let him rest. “Goodnight,” Kid said pointedly.

Hanae rolled her eyes at him, refusing to let that guilt show. “C’mon, Midori, we have to get back to bed or Kaa-san and Tou-san will notice.”

Midori pouted for half a second before bouncing to her feet. “Goodnight, Kid-san. Thanks for the story. It was really good.”

“You’re welcome,” Kid said, sounding amused.

He looked tired though. Hanae paused at the door. “Can we come back tomorrow?” she asked, surprising herself a bit with the question. The story had been good. And Kid was interesting. And maybe she’d get to see his face eventually.

In the dim light of the lamp, Kid’s teeth glinted in a smile. “Sure. Come visit anytime.”

Hanae gave him a hesitant smile back. He was still a criminal but...maybe not too bad a person. Couldn’t be if Tou-san and Kaa-san let him stay.

They crept back upstairs, passing the study without anyone coming out to yell at them. Hanae left her sister at her room and crawled back into bed. She couldn’t tell anyone about Kid, but someday, someone was going to be amazed by the story. And maybe she’d have more to tell about it by the time Kid got better.

***

“The girls gone to bed then?” Shinichi asked Kid, standing in the doorway to the spare room.

Kid tilted his head in Shinichi’s direction. “You knew they were out of bed the whole time, didn’t you?”

“They’re not very subtle,” Ran said coming over to lean against Shinichi’s side. She yawned, as tired as Shinichi was after yet another long day. “We let them think they are though.”

She and Shinichi shared a conspiring look. It was easier to keep track of them when they thought they were sneaky. Hanae could pull it off sometimes, but Midori? Not so much. Put the two of them together and it was easy to tell what they were getting into.

“They didn’t bother you too much did they?” Ran asked.

“No.” Kid smiled. “It was nice actually. It’s been a while since I told bedtime stories.”

It was one thing hearing Kid throw the occasional allusion to fatherhood over the years. It was another to know it, having seen Kid’s son face to face. Kid had to have been an interesting parental figure growing up.

“I’m surprised you’re not bothered by me being around them,” Kid said. “Terrible influence that I am.”

He said it like a joke, but with a bitter twist to his voice that hinted that it was something he’d heard from someone often enough to internalize it. Shinichi shuffled that little clue away with all the other ones he’d picked up in the last few days and the last decade. “You’re not that bad an influence at the moment,” Shinichi said. “Stories aren’t going to do any harm.”

“You never know, I might convince them to take up the phantom thief lifestyle.”

Shinichi bet that if three quarters of his face wasn’t covered in bandages and a mask, Kid would be making a ridiculous expression.

“You could try,” Ran joked back, “but you might end up in handcuffs.” Children’s plastic ones. By Hanae.

“Your trust runs so deep,” Kid said, deadpan.

Ran laughed. For a second Shinichi wondered if in another timeline this would have been how things could have been all the time, the three of them joking. Kid telling bedtime stories to the children. But with Kid significantly less injured. He shoved that thought away too, because there wasn’t any point of thinking about what could have been when it clearly would never happen. Kid had moved on and so had they.

“You can talk to the girls. Just let us know if they bother you.”

“Of course, Kudo,” Kid said. He yawned and that made Ran yawn again and Shinichi had to fight back one of his own. They were contagious. “I think we should all go to bed,” Kid muttered.

“Seconded,” Ran said. She crossed the room to turn out the lamp the girls had left on. “Goodnight, Kid.”

“Night, Ran-san. Kudo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to explore the kids a bit more ^_^;


	24. Babysitting with Takumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaaaaa, so I totally meant to post this in the morning, forgot because I've been even more of a zombie in the mornings than usual and didn't remember until halfway through work that it was a Tuesday. >_>;;; Wow, self, you've only been posting weekly for months now. Anyway, have some kiddos being children.

Babysitting with Takumi

Takumi had been half-joking when he said he would babysit for the Kudos to get to know his maybe-sister. But he’d been half-serious at the time too, and now here he was. Alone. With two children. On a Saturday. Their parents wouldn’t be home until Sunday afternoon and of course this had to be a weekend that his dad and Hakuba were off on a kind of sort of romantic getaway too (did it count as a romantic getaway when they initially went away for a case?). Either way, Takumi didn’t actually spend much time with children. Ever. What had made him think this was a good idea again?

Two wide-eyed little girls stared back at him, either one of them looking like they could be a blood relative.

Right. Family. Maybe family. Family was important even if it was family that might not be family, or maybe just family in the adopted sideways kind of way.

“So... What do you want to do?” Takumi asked, wondering what the heck babysitters were supposed to do besides make sure children were alive and well and not setting things on fire while their parents were elsewhere.

“Usually we play games and eat dinner and maybe watch a movie or something before bed,” Hanae said. “When Ayumi-neesan is over we sometimes do girl stuff. Mitsuhiko-niisan only ever wants to watch documentaries or play trivia games, and Genta-niisan sometimes shows us how to bake.”

That was three babysitters right there; the Kudos probably had a whole bunch of other people they could have entrusted their daughters to but they’d decided to let Takumi watch them. Oh crap, he was responsible for two little kids.

“Are you okay?” Hanae asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“No, I’m good. Really. You didn’t say what you wanted to do?”

Hanae and Midori exchanged a look like they could read each other’s minds. Was it a sibling thing? They’d done something similar when they dragged him to play with them when he last spent time with them, so maybe it was a sibling thing.

“What do you wanna do, Takumi-niisan?” Midori asked.

What would Tou-san do at a time like this? Break out story books and magic tricks and a spur of the moment adventure game? Or what would Shiemi do? ...Pull out a pack of cards and teach them poker? Heck, cards weren’t a bad idea... “Want to play Go Fish?” He pulled a pack of cards from a pocket with as much flair as he could manage. It wasn’t his dad’s level of showmanship, but it should impress a couple of kids.

Midori looked excited. Hanae didn’t seem impressed, but then she was a bit older than her sister.

“Are you a magician like Kid-san?” Midori asked.

“Uh.”

“Of course he is, Midori,” Hanae said. “That’s how it works. Like Tou-san teaching us detective stuff and Kaa-san teaching self-defense.”

“Um!” Did they know his dad was Kid?

“Relax,” Hanae said, “we keep secrets. Right Midori?”

Midori nodded. “No one can know we know Kid-san. But that’s okay because he’s cool.”

“Tou-san’s better,” Hanae said. “But Kid’s not too bad.” She glanced sideways at Takumi. “Adults don’t notice you listening if you pretend not to know they’re talking.”

Takumi was uncomfortably reminded of the times he and Shiemi snuck downstairs to listen to adults talk in the kitchen after bedtime growing up. He swallowed. “Yeah, adults do that sometimes. Um. Maybe don’t mention you know I’m related to Kid?”

Hanae rolled her eyes. “We’re not stupid.” She grabbed his arm. “C’mon, we can play cards in the kitchen.”

“Do you know any card tricks?” Midori asked as Hanae dragged him down the hall.

“Some?”

“Can you teach me?”

“Maybe?”

“Teach her later, I want to play cards,” Hanae said.

And so that was how Takumi found himself in the Kudos’ kitchen playing Go Fish for the next half hour. Midori won the first two rounds and Hanae won the third, and Takumi wasn’t really trying to win and the girls clearly noticed because after the third round, Midori demanded he show her a card trick and it devolved from there.

It was hard to teach a child how to palm a card when the card was bigger than her hand. Stacking a deck was a little more successful and Midori was engaged in trying to get a simple trick to work, but Hanae was clearly bored with it all.

“I don’t get what’s so fun about it when it’s such a simple trick,” Hanae said as Midori tried to get it right for the eighth time. “Once you know how it’s done you can mess it up, and it’s not that awe inspiring anyway.”

Takumi had never met a child so utterly disillusioned with sleight of hand. It was annoying because he’d practiced hard to get the skills he had and his dad had taught him every trick he knew. And that was his family legacy she was looking down on. Takumi pulled a second deck from another pocket, bridging the cards between his hands in a showy flutter that would have made his dad proud. “Okay, there are flaws in that argument. One, the trick she’s learning really is basic. Of course it’s simple, it’s one of the first tricks you learn when you’re getting hang on working with the cards.” He kept up aggressive eye contact as he moved the cards in flashy patterns, muscle memory taking over. “Two, messing up a trick just because you don’t like it would be a pretty mean thing to do for both the performer and the audience. Three—” He exchanged the cards for a paper flower with a flick of the wrist and a bit of misdirection. “Magic tricks are meant for people who want to believe in magic. If you go in wanting to pick them apart, you’re not going to enjoy them. Just relax and appreciate the time and skill it takes to do them instead of worrying how it was done.” He held out the flower.

Hanae took it, reluctantly impressed with the display. She’d better be at least a little impressed. He didn’t practice some of those hand movements for hours for nothing.

“Okay, I think I got it,” Midori said. Takumi watched her go through the trick with clumsy hands and a determined frown, doing his part when prompted. This time the desired cards matched up at the end and Midori’s face lit up into a huge grin. “I did it!”

“Good job. Keep practicing and you’ll be impressing an audience in no time,” Takumi said.

The joy on her face was like how he remembered it every time he figured out a new trick. He couldn’t even remember what exactly he’d learned first, but the thrill of getting something right was always there, even years later. Hanae still had a bit of a frown on her face, but she smiled for her sister.

“Sometime you have to do that in front of Kaa-san and Tou-san and see what they think.” Hanae grinned.

Midori stuck out her tongue. “No way, Tou-san’d see right through it.”

“Kaa-san then.”

“Only if you help me practice.”

“Maybe,” Hanae said. “If you’re not a tagalong when I have friends over next.”

“Your friends are fun and it’s boring on my own.”

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“Only if you really help me practice.”

“I will,” Hanae said with a nod, like it sealed a pact.

Takumi took the cards back when Midori offered them and slid them back into his pockets. “So, dinner now or...?”

“Dinner!” Midori said. “I want omurice!”

“Uh.” He knew how to cook it theoretically. He looked at Hanae. She shrugged.

“I’m fine with whatever.”

“Okay. Omurice.” That was just fried rice stuffed in an omelet right? Not too hard. He found some leftover rice in the fridge and vegetables and eggs as the girls pulled out pans and a cutting board.

“Knives are up there,” Hanae said, pointing at a pull-down knife rack that was outside easy reach for a child.

Takumi fell into the rhythm of cooking easily enough. He gave the eggs to Midori to crack into a bowl and chopped up onion and garlic and carrots into tiny pieces. Omurice wasn’t something he’d made before, but his mom made it for him growing up and Shiemi had him help her a few times. Takumi wasn’t a great cook, but he could feed himself. He had to with Kaa-san working late so often. He couldn’t go over to Tou-san’s house every day just for dinner, so he’d figured out enough to get by. Shiemi’d made some pretty interesting mistakes with him. They only set the kitchen on fire once and that was because they tried frying something without knowing what the hell they were doing.

Vegetables and rice sizzled in a pan, frying slowly with ketchup and soy sauce to give it flavor. Milk and salt with the egg...

“I want cheese on mine,” Hanae said as Takumi contemplated the rest of the cooking process.

“I _don’t_ want cheese on mine,” Midori said, wrinkling her nose. “Cheese doesn’t go with rice.”

“It goes with the omelet.”

“But tastes weird with the rice!”

“Got it, one with cheese, one without,” Takumi said. He’d have his without too; cheese and ketchup were weird together, and omurice was always better with ketchup.

It went pretty well until he tried to fold the first omelet around the rice. It ripped and he ended up with a mess on a plate. “...Guess that can be mine.”

“I’d eat it,” Midori said. “Put a bunch of ketchup and it’s like something from a monster movie.”

Comparing his cooking to something out of a scary movie was far from flattering. Thankfully the next one came out better if a little lumpy, and Hanae’s came out looking even better.

Takumi smiled at the last one. It wasn’t even a little dark like the second one. “There you go, omurice.”

“You have to put ketchup first!” Midori said when he started to move to the table with the plates. “Those are the rules. Draw something cute!” She thrust a ketchup bottle at his face.

Takumi took it and drew a wobbly smiley face on his egg disaster.

“That’s terrible,” Hanae said at his side. She snatched the bottle. “Here.” She drew a passable cat face on Midori’s omelet, two triangle ears, dots for eyes and nose, and little whisker lines. “Like that.”

“Me next!” Midori grabbed the bottle and stretched on tiptoe to draw an even more lopsided smile on Hanae’s omelet with a heart around it.

“Better?” Takumi asked.

“Good enough,” Hanae said. She stole her plate from Takumi’s hands. “Midori, get forks.”

“Not as good as Kaa-san’s omurice,” was the verdict once they dug in, “but still good.”

Takumi supposed that this was about the best reaction he could get because most of the time mothers did cook your favorites best. The dishes all got piled in the sink to wash later before he was dragged off by the girls again.

This time it was to watch a movie. There was a five second stare down in front of the DVD collection before the girls did jan-ken-pon, hands flinging out scissor and rock shapes. Midori grinned as she won. “I get to choose the movie,” she said.

“How do you keep winning?” Hanae complained.

“Cuz I’m good at it,” Midori said, rifling through an impressive number of animated movies. She held up _The Cat Returns_ triumphantly.

“We watched that last week!”

“I won, I pick.”

Hanae looked at Takumi, hoping for support. He held his hands up defensively.

“Anything’s fine!” he said. “Do you not like it?”

“I like it but she keeps picking it. If you have to pick a Ghibli movie, Kiki’s obviously better.”

“I think you mean Spirited Away,” Takumi teased.

Hanae scowled, insulted. “Kiki’s plot makes way more sense than—”

“Cats,” Midori said, shoving the DVD she’d chosen at their faces. “Cats beat everything.”

“Cats are pretty cool,” Takumi agreed, taking the disc to put in the player. “But dragons are cooler.”

“ _Cats_.” Midori repeated.

“Kaa-san won’t let us get a pet,” Hanae sighed.

“We have space. And I’d take care of it,” Midori grumbled. “And cats don’t need to be walked like dogs.” It was clearly a sore subject.

“I’m not allowed to have a pet either,” Takumi said. He sat on the couch and the girls followed, Midori flinging herself half on her sister and her feet in Takumi’s lap. It was kind of cute except for how she kicked him in the knee in the process. He rubbed his knee as he got to the disc menu. “But Tou-san has birds and they’re nice. Birds are loud, but Tou-san’s are pretty smart and friendly.”

“I wish I had any pet,” Midori sighed.

“Maybe sometime you could meet Tou-san’s doves. It’s not the same as having a pet, but I don’t think anyone would mind you visiting from time to time.” And maybe it would be a chance to introduce his grandmother to his maybe-sister. The smiles the offer got him were enough to make him glad he’d decided to be here though.

Bath and bedtime were met with very little resistance to his surprise—perhaps because the movie had kept them up later than the initial bedtime was supposed to be—and by the time Takumi found himself in the guest bedroom, he was both tired and relieved that he’d managed to get things right so far.

He checked his phone as he set an alarm for the next morning. Shiemi had left a text. _Surviving babysitting?_

 _So far so good,_ he texted back.

 _Getting to know your maybe-sister?_ Her answer was immediate—she must be playing a cell phone game or something.

 _Getting to know them both a bit. Midori-chan likes omurice the same way I do._ Such a tiny thing, but it made him smile a little. Part of him wanted to pick out similarities and try to know for sure if she really was his sister... But the logical side of him knew that just because someone was related didn’t mean they were necessarily similar. And she’d been raised by the Kudos. Logically they weren’t going to be much alike. But it was nice seeing her try to learn a card trick and seeing her like what he cooked. Takumi didn’t know the first thing about being a sibling and barely knew anything about children, but the warm feelings were probably normal. He wanted to be something in her life. And in Hanae’s because she was kind of headstrong and skeptical, but she reminded him a bit of other women in his life. _She likes cats_ , he added after a moment. He didn’t know much more about her than that yet, but it was a start. _Hanae likes Kiki’s Delivery Service but Midori likes The Cat Returns better._

_Obviously Whisper of the Heart wins over all of them._

_Sacrilege. What happened to your crush on Lin in Spirited Away?_

_I rewatched Whisper and got caught up in the romance and struggle of young artists. Obviously._ Takumi could picture Shiemi sticking her tongue out at him.

He smiled. _You know that means a rewatch of Spirited Away is called for._

_Your place or mine?_

_Tou-san’s, next Friday. We’ll rope everyone into a Ghibli movie marathon._

_I’ll be there. And I’ll win everyone over on my choice ~_^_

Takumi snickered and sent back a few increasingly ridiculous emojis before locking his phone for the night.

***

Takumi woke up with his heart pounding in his chest and the vague feeling like he was dying. Flickers of fear and horrified anticipation lingered, snippets of half-remembered lights and blurs of white dissipating into the gray-dark of his surroundings. It took him a moment to recognize where he was, the blankets twisted around his legs not his familiar worn bed-cover, but stiff sheets and a floral patterned coverlet. Takumi relaxed against his pillows, anxiety dropping as he recognized that it had been a dream. Just a dream that couldn’t hurt him no matter what his heart half beating out of his chest wanted him to think. He pressed his palms into his eyes before groping blindly for his phone.

Six forty in the morning. He’d set the alarm for seven thirty, but it wouldn’t make much sense to go to sleep again. If he could go to sleep again. The dream that woke him was less distinct than most of his nightmares, but he didn’t have to remember the details to have an idea of what it had featured. There were only two events that his brain currently fixated on and threw back at him in all the wonderfully warped ways an anxious brain could twist them. He hadn’t had a nightmare in a few weeks though. It figured that he’d have one now, staying at the Kudo house.

Brains were stupid. Even after dangers were over and done with, even when nothing bad ended up happening to him physically, it was like the sheer range and mass of emotions from those moments got condensed into a bowling ball and every now and then it’d roll off a shelf and shake things up again. Like bits chipped off and leached into the present sometimes. He hated it, but he was getting better, little by little.

In his hand his phone vibrated with a message. It was from Tou-san, a selfie with Hakuba in the background. They had tea mugs in their hands and seemed to be on a hotel balcony, watching the sun rise.

 _Case went well_ , the text following it said. _Weather’s great here. If we get a chance we should come back for a family vacation someday. I’d even go to the beach. ^_^_

Takumi snorted. Tou-san on a beach. Well, okay, maybe if he stayed in the sand but he’d have to try pretty hard to get Tou-san in the water. He looked at the picture again. Tou-san looked happy at least. Hakuba didn’t seem to know that he’d had his picture taken since he was looking off at the sunrise. It wasn’t intentionally romantic or anything but the framing ended up that way and it still felt... a little weird to think of his dad dating his teacher. But more in that his dad was dating at all than that it was Hakuba in the end. They both looked happier though and he genuinely liked Hakuba so it was all good. Hakuba would feel like family soon enough. He was halfway there already.

 _Shiemi still wants a beach trip next summer,_ Takumi sent back. _Since we never made it this year._

 _She’s welcome to come with us. She’s family._ There was another photo, just of the sunrise, all yellows and pinks and orange glinting off a distant ocean.

_I’ll tell her you said that. She’ll hold you to it. Have fun on the rest of your vacation._

_Good luck babysitting ~ *_

Takumi smiled at his phone before hauling himself out of bed.

After running through his morning routine, he padded off down the hall to the kitchen. There was something inherently unsettling about having free reign over someone else’s house, especially early in the morning. The Kudo manor was big too, three times the size of his home with Kaa-san at least if not larger. He couldn’t picture growing up in this sort of place. He was used to crowded spaces and lived-in clutter. There were signs of life everywhere, but not the same stacks of newspapers and mail and paperwork on the kitchen counter like with Kaa-san or books and sketches and random notes like with Tou-san. The kitchen was clean and neat and everything had its place. Was it always like this or had it been cleaned since he was coming?

By the time he heard the girls coming down the stairs at a bit after seven, he’d already started the rice and had the miso soup almost finished. He’d considered pancakes, but he’d gone with what he knew he wouldn’t mess up.

“Good morning,” Takumi said as Midori bounced into the room, trailed by a sleepy Hanae.

“Morning!” Midori said, clambering into her spot at the kitchen table.

Hanae followed with a yawn. “I thought teenagers slept in,” she said, resting her head on her arms.

“I ended up waking up early.” Takumi dished out rice and soup. “Hope this is okay for breakfast.”

“Kaa-san makes traditional breakfasts on weekends,” Hanae said. She looked like she was going to fall asleep in her rice.

“Did you sleep badly?” Takumi asked, passing her a cup of juice to go with everything.

“Midori woke me up,” Hanae grumbled, shooting her sister an annoyed look.

“I was gonna start the rice for breakfast but you beat me to it,” Midori said.

“You can help with lunch instead,” Takumi offered, and Midori hummed in agreement before digging into her meal with a cheerful, “Itadakimasu!”

Hanae had another huge yawn before she started picking at her meal too, so Takumi just ate and watched them as they exchanged conversation back and forth between each other, arguing about something or other, but he’d missed what exactly the subject of the argument was.

***

There’d been a suggestion, Takumi thought, something that seemed perfectly reasonable for children. Yeah, sure, playing cops and robbers was normal for kids. Sure Takumi would play. Sure, he could be the banker in this scenario, why not?

Takumi was regretting agreeing to this.

He had somehow ended up tied to a tree in the back yard with Hanae standing next to him, one hand making a finger gun in his direction as Midori played the cop in this scenario. A cop that didn’t seem too invested in helping free the hostage.

“Just give up! You’re surrounded and won’t be getting away with it!” Midori said.

“Getting away with it? Getting _away_ with it?” Hanae laughed a very good imitation of an evil cackle. “I don’t need to rob the bank to get what I came for!”

Wasn’t the point of cops and robbers to rob the bank and chase each other around? This was not, Takumi thought anxiously, how he remembered playing make believe. Hanae jabbed him in the shoulder with her finger-gun.

“It’s the bank’s fault I’m here! If they’d just given me that loan, none of this would have ever happened! Hiro would still be alive and no one else would have to suffer!”

“Killing a bank teller won’t make up for it!” Midori said.

“No, but blowing up the bank would make us even! It ruined my life so I’m going to ruin everyone attached to it.”

“But is it what Hiro would’ve wanted?”

“You don’t even know Hiro!”

Takumi felt like he was trapped in a soap opera.

“We can still fix this. You don’t have to turn evil to get revenge.”

“No one will take the lawsuit!”

Takumi tuned out the argument, twisting his hands around in his bonds. Considering he was tied up with a jump rope and it was done by a ten year old, it was surprisingly secure.

“You just need to—!”

“Too late!” Hanae shrieked. She raised a hand. “BOOM!” She laughed evilly. “And now we’re all dead.”

Midori huffed. “Hanae! The _cop_ is supposed to win!”

“Where’s the fun if it’s always predictable? And I always end up the villain.”

“That’s because you’re bad at jan-ken.”

“But I still won this time,” Hanae said, smug.

“Ugh, I call take back! Bombs are cheating!”

“Are not. I can explode the game if I want to.”

“Can not.”

“Can too.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_. Because I’m older and I said so.”

There was a moment when Midori went still and it hit all of Takumi’s instincts to duck and cover. Then she threw herself at Hanae and Hanae shrieked and ran. And Takumi was still tied to a tree. Crap. He tugged at his wrists.

“Guys?” Toward the house there was more shrieking. Two voices shrieking. He couldn’t even tell if it was play fighting or real fighting and how the heck had he even ended up in this situation? “For the love of...” Takumi started picking at the knots as best he could considering he couldn’t see them. “Someone’s going to be in a time out after this. Or something. Probably.” He’d agreed to this...sort of...but... Yeah he kind of sucked at babysitting.

The door to the house slammed. And now they were inside and unsupervised. Wonderful.

“...Is everything alright?” a voice said from the other side of the fence. A moment later an elderly man peeked over the edge. He blinked at Takumi. Takumi’s face burned.

“I’m the...babysitter,” he muttered.

“I’m their neighbor,” the man said. “And also one of their babysitters. I just got home though.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you need help?”

The knots finally gave under Takumi’s frantic tugging. He wrenched his arms free. “No! Nope, I’m fine! Great even, I’m just going to go...make sure they haven’t killed each other!” Takumi all but ran for the house. The neighbor was probably going to tell the Kudos exactly what happened. Takumi was never going to live this down.

“Okay!” Takumi said, bursting into the living room where a pillow war between couch cushion fortifications seemed to be going on. “I think that’s enough cops and robbers! New rule; no tying me up, okay? Okay.”

A pillow flew his way. Takumi slung it back before he could even think the action through. Two wide grins turned in his direction. “Oh shiiiii—” Takumi got out before he was attacked by two children armed with pillows.

***

When the Kudos returned that afternoon, the living room had been turned into a pillow fort and Takumi and the girls were reading in a pile in the center. The jump rope from earlier was supporting the roof of the fort, tied between two chair so the sheet could drape. Once he’d finally stopped being attacked by pillows, it had been a compromise to stay in one place and _not_ do anything that involved attacking each other.

Takumi was tired but a lot happier than he’d have thought to be curled up with kids reading. It was comfortable like they’d done it together dozens of times. Hanae was the sort who hyper-focused when she read. She didn’t even look up when her parents peeked into the room. Midori gave a distracted hello, slipping another page in her book before doing a double-take. Then she carefully shoved a corner of blanket in to the book to mark her place and scrambled over to give them a hug.

Takumi crawled out after her, smiling nervously. “Hey.”

“Looks like you were having fun,” Kudo Ran said, her arms around Midori.

“A bit, yeah.”

“More than a bit,” Midori said.

Kudo Shinichi laughed. He crouched next to the pillow fort. “Hey, Hanae, we’re home.”

“Mm.” Hanae flipped another page.

“We brought back some of those lemon butter cookies you like.”

“Mm.”

“We’re going to give Midori your share.”

“Mm—wait.” Hanae looked up. “Tou-san!”

“We’re not actually giving Midori your share of the cookies.”

“You’d better not!” She abandoned her book to give her dad a hug.

Takumi snickered. Both girls surrounded their father asking about sweets, and Shinichi struggled to his feet with children hanging off each arm as he laughed.

“They weren’t any trouble were they?” Ran asked.

“Not too much,” Takumi said. He wasn’t going to mention getting tied up unless they did first. “It was fun.” Mostly. Stress aside, he’d babysit again.

“He made us omurice!” Midori said, bounding over to give her mother another hug. “He also said we could visit sometime and see his family’s pets. They have doves. Can we?”

“Tou-san keeps them,” Takumi explained.

“Maybe sometime in the future,” Ran said.

“You never did say how many doves he had,” Hanae said.

“Oh, about eighteen or twenty?” He thought one of the doves had managed to hatch a few eggs, which would bring the number up. That sometimes happened though they normally tried not to have them reproduce because there were a lot of them to begin with. “They’re really tame. You can go in and hold your arms out and they’ll land on you.” If you had food, the bolder ones would land on you before you offered a perch. Takumi could remember having birds land on his head when he was little. They still did if he let them.

“So cool! We gotta visit sometime,” Midori said, giving her parents pleading eyes.

“We’ll have to see when will be a good time,” Shinichi said. “Provided it won’t bother anyone.”

“The doves always can use more socializing. Tou-san visits them daily, but they’re kept at Obaa-san’s house so they spend a lot of time in the dovecote. I could take them sometime if that would be okay.” Takumi hoped it wasn’t overstepping to offer. From Ran and Shinichi’s smiles, it must not be.

“Thank you. I’m sure they appreciate the offer.” Shinichi ruffled his daughters’ hair. Hanae batted his hand away while Midori kept smiling. “Now...those cookies...” Both girls bolted for the kitchen and Shinichi trailed after them laughing.

Ran and Takumi followed slower. “They didn’t actually cause you too much trouble did they?” Ran asked now that the girls were out of earshot. “They can get into trouble.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Takumi said. “Although they’re, uh, _intense_ when it comes to make believe. I’ve never heard a kid complain about loans not going through at a bank while playing cops and robbers before.”

Ran winced. “They have a lot of real life examples on why people might commit crimes,” she said diplomatically.

And right, Shinichi was a detective. They must have grown up getting glimpses of the worst sides of humanity. Thankfully that didn’t seem to make them less carefree. Takumi’d been shielded from a lot of that despite his mom being on the police force just because she’d shooed him out of the room whenever talking about work in specifics came up. The Kudos must take a more direct approach of addressing Shinichi’s work. Or maybe there was more bleed over with Shinichi working homicides than with his mother working heists. “That makes sense,” Takumi said. “I’m glad I got to spend time with them though. It was fun.”

Ran’s smile went a little lopsided. Midori being his maybe-sister had never been brought up, but Takumi had a feeling that it was on her mind too. “You’re welcome to come over anytime, Takumi-kun,” Ran said. “Babysitting or not.”

“Thanks.” He’d take her up on that. Maybe bring Shiemi with him sometime... That would be nice.

“We brought you back a cookie too,” Ran said as they got to the kitchen. “Since you were nice enough to watch them.”

“Thanks,” Takumi repeated. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind coming back and doing this again.

***

“So,” Shiemi said on the phone later. “Babysitting went ok?”

“Yeah. It was fun. Even if I did get tied to a tree.”

“You what?”

“We played a dramatic game of cops and robbers and I got tied to the tree,” Takumi said rolling his eyes. “I got out of it.”

Shiemi cackled. “I would pay for pictures of that.”

“I didn’t tell the Kudos about that part. But knowing my luck the neighbor will probably tell them at some point...”

“The neighbor saw?”

“Yeah.”

Shiemi kept laughing.

Takumi sighed. “Some friend, laughing at my pain.”

“That’s the best mental image!”

“Laugh it up, sometime I’m taking you with me to meet them and maybe you’ll get tied to a tree.”

Shiemi’s laughter petered out into giggles. He could practically see her wiping away tears. “You sound so sure I’d get tied to a tree. Takumi, what makes you think I wouldn’t be organizing those girls into a single-minded mission of catch-the-thief against you?”

“You wouldn’t.” The silence was a grin of bared teeth. Dammit. “You would. Now that means you can never meet them.”

“And deny me the pleasure?”

“I don’t need to be hunted down. Getting attacked by pillows is enough.”

“Wow, that does sound eventful. You have to spill all!”

Takumi rolled his eyes again, but this time with a smile. “Sure, Shiemi.” He’d definitely introduce them all at some point. He’d probably regret it later, but he kind of liked how the number of people he cared about in his life kept growing and he wanted them to like each other too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun story, my brother and I actually tied up my cousin to a tree once when she babysat us. Between that and accidentally leaving the stove on and setting off the smoke alarm, I'm not at all surprised that she only babysat us that one time. ^_^; Truth be told, I can't even remember why we tied her up. My parents got home, joked about something along those lines and she was all "well actually..." This was before my brother and I went through a phase of fighting all the time. Woo.  
> Also, do you know how terrifying it is to find yourself backed in a corner and attacked with pillows by a horde of children? I do. I remember this happening very distinctly. That was about the family party I decided the adults were better company after all. My only time babysitting as a teen involved frantically washing two kids to remove possible poison ivy oils and teaching them to do headstands in their basement so Takumi's not doing too bad.


	25. Kaito's the Romantic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to change the rating to T between the swearing and vague violence and now some suggestive themes, it's not really a G rating anymore >_>;; 
> 
> Full title for this chapter in draft form was "Kaito is the romantic (and also the perv)" ^_^; This is probably the most suggestive any of the extras get, though there will be similar flirtiness in To London To London (not yet posted because it's being slow to write) and maybe one other extra. Though I suppose the prequel fic I intend to post technically has a vague sex scene... >_____> Anyway, point being, I'm not writing smut for this universe as it's not something that I have a strong urge to write so this is about as sexual as it'll get. I'll save smut for some other time and some other universe.

There was nothing better, Kaito reflected, than being able to lounge around in bed on a weekend morning. Correction. There was nothing better than lazy weekend mornings in bed with a lover. Kaito stretched beneath Saguru’s futon blankets, careful not to wake up the warm body beside him. Saguru slept deeply when he got the chance. He’d sleep through Kaito coming and going too these days, his subconscious at ease with Kaito’s presence in a way that made Kaito want to smile stupidly at Saguru’s sleep-slack face. Kaito on the other hand had trouble sleeping in; decades of living off an average of five hours of sleep left him prone to sleep in short bursts and wake up with the sun even if he’d fallen asleep not long before it came up.

It was easier to get more rest with someone else though. Easier to indulge in the siren call of warm blankets and soft pillows when there was warm bare skin to curl up against.

Kaito ran a hand down Saguru’s bare torso, enjoying the soft skin and sparse hair under his fingertips. Saguru turned a bit toward him, nuzzling closer and Kaito bit his lip to hold in the warm, gooey mess of emotions such a small movement brought up in him. He was becoming a marshmallow. A warm, gooey marshmallow with flittering, overblown romanticism clogging up his brain. It was like the honeymoon phase with Aoko all over again only without the playful arguments or Aoko’s violent morning sickness.

It was just Saguru. Just Saguru with his hair going gray at the temples and frown lines on his forehead and smile lines on his cheeks. Just Saguru, who slept with his mouth open and sometimes drooled, and sometimes kicked if he was having a bad dream. ...Just Saguru that was using Kaito’s chest as a teddy bear with his nose pressed into Kaito’s collarbone. A grown man shouldn’t be cute, but somehow Saguru’d managed to fit into that category a lot lately. None of this had been what Kaito planned, but hell, plans were a thing of the past now that he was retired from Kid. He could have the luxury of falling in love and pursuing it now. He could have these stolen, sunlit weekend mornings and fill up his mind with them.

Saguru made a tiny sound against Kaito’s chest, between a whine and a question. Kaito ran fingers through his hair as sleepy hazel eyes squinted blearily in his general direction.

“Shhh.” Kaito soothed. “It’s barely six-thirty. Go back to sleep.”

“Mm. Bu` y’re up,” Saguru slurred, eyes already drifting shut again.

“Not going anywhere,” Kaito promised.

“Y’re staring,” Saguru mumbled.

“Just watching you sleep.”

“Sta’ker.” Saguru smiled faintly, drifting off again.

Kaito kept petting his hair, an answering smile curling his lips. Cute. It would be kind of nice to just spend the day here, curled up and cozy. Of course the thought of spending a day in bed with Saguru turned to _spending a day_ _in bed_ with Saguru. Kaito bit his lip at the coil of arousal that thought brought up. Plenty of time for the sort of slow, intimate exploration of each other’s bodies that Saguru seemed to be fond of. Also plenty of time to play around like Kaito enjoyed. With more cuddling in between. And talking about whatever popped into their heads and—yeah, his brain was stuck in honeymoon phase.

Sadly neither of them could spend a whole day in bed, and even if they could, they were both closer to forty than twenty with every day that passed, with the need to rest a bit longer than they would have a decade ago. Pity. It was a bit tempting to try to talk Saguru into it regardless. Kaito would save the idea for another day though.

Saguru woke up in stages, tiny movements followed by soft sounds as he tried to get comfortable again. He’d chosen Kaito’s chest as a pillow though, and Kaito could say with full honesty that his chest was not the best pillow. From that bleary, half-awake phase, Saguru went from squinting at sunlight and the curve of Kaito’s shoulder to mostly awake and blinking. On bad days he’d snap awake like a switch being thrown, but today wasn’t one of the bad days. He blinked at Kaito’s chest like he was half surprised to find it under his head before twisting to look at Kaito.

“Morning,” Saguru said, much clearer than earlier.

Kaito craned his neck down to give him a quick kiss. “Good morning.”

Saguru wrinkled his nose slightly—he had a thing about morning breath while Kaito could care less about that kind of thing—but tipped his head up to follow the kiss with a second one. “You were watching me?” he asked.

“You’re cute when you sleep. Like a golden retriever, just less drool.”

Saguru snorted, faintly. “No nightmares?”

“Nope.” Kaito scritched fingers through Saguru’s hair more firmly now that he was awake. Saguru leaned back into the pressure with a pleased hum. “I considered getting up to make breakfast,” Kaito lied, “but I couldn’t make you give up your pillow.”

Saguru poked him in the ribs. “Some pillow.”

“Hey,” Kaito protested, twitching back.

“You’re not ticklish.”

Kaito poked back. “No, I’m not, but how do you like having your ribs poked?”

“Unlike you, I have padding.” Saguru smirked up at him and some part of Kaito’s brain went gooey again. Saguru could never find out he had the power to do that with a smile. He’d abuse it and Kaito would be even more ridiculous than he already felt.

“Is that what we’re calling it,” Kaito said on automatic, tickling Saguru’s side. Unlike Kaito, he was ticklish.

Saguru twitched away with a gasp, and it was easy enough to move with him, pivoting so that it was Kaito draped across Saguru instead of the other way around.  He straddled Saguru’s thighs, leaning over him with a grin, hands at the ready. Saguru eyed him, wary. “Don’t even think about it, Kuroba.” Kaito’s grin stretched wider. “Kaito—” He choked off in helpless laughter as Kaito tickled him. “You—ass—Kai—dammit!”

They rolled off the futon onto the tatami floor, helplessly tangled in blankets as Saguru tried to keep from being tickled and Kaito tried to sneak his fingers wherever he knew would have Saguru squirming. Kaito was still far more flexible than Saguru, and that made squirming free from his attempts to pin him down that much easier. Saguru was gasping for breath and half curled up under Kaito when he tapped the floor in defeat. “I give up!” he gasped. “You win!”

“Oh?” Kaito said, perched on Saguru’s thighs. “What do I win?” Saguru glanced up at him, hair a mess, face red from laughing and bare chest all golden in the morning sunlight. He was a mess. He was beautiful. Kaito had to reign himself in to keep from just going for it and kissing him silly.

“What would you like?” Saguru asked. His hands ran up the back of Kaito’s thighs. Kaito’s breath caught in his chest as those hands squeezed and released. Oho? Maybe Kaito wasn’t the only one thinking dirty thoughts this morning.

Kaito licked his lips. “I can think of a few things.”

“You don’t say,” Saguru drawled, still a little breathless. His eyes were half-lidded and amused. His hands lifted a few centimeters higher and squeezed again, definitely with intent. Saguru looked at Kaito above him like he was something beautiful and enticing and to be consumed. Kaito liked that look. It promised all sorts of fun things and never failed to instantly put his mind in the gutter.

 Kaito had to lean down and kiss him, feeling Saguru’s laugh against his lips. He slid higher along Saguru’s body to get a better angle, felt Saguru’s hands settle at his hips and—they flipped and Kaito found himself staring up at a grinning Saguru.

“I win.”

“What?” Saguru leaned back and no, Kaito wanted this to keep going, not stop! “Wait—!”

“I think we’re both awake now,” Saguru said, stretching knowing full well it showed off his shoulders nicely when he did so. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Kaito pouted. “Tease.”

“Kaito, Takumi’s sleeping on the other side of the wall. Let’s not do anything that would traumatize him.”

“He sleeps like a rock on weekends.” Kaito reeled Saguru back in for another kiss. He arched up into Saguru, letting skin brush skin across their torsos. Breath caught in Saguru’s chest. “I know _I’m_ capable of being quiet.”

Saguru narrowed his eyes. “Change of plans. Breakfast can be after a shower.” He pushed himself up, hauling himself to his feet with the help of a chair.

For a second Kaito was sure he’d miscalculated.

Then Saguru glanced over his shoulder. “Care to join me?”

Kaito couldn’t get to his feet fast enough. “Yes.”

Saguru smirked. “Good. Now I think I’m going to have to sit in there because fun as this is, my knee isn’t the happiest with me playing around on it.”

“Sit, stand, I’ll be on my knees either way.”

Kaito caught Saguru when he stumbled, red faced and laughing again. Kaito took a mental picture of it, grinning as his heart beat with the same kind of rush jumping off a building could give. Yeah, only just a bit in love with the man. The bathroom door clicked shut behind them.


	26. Get a Knee Replacement, Saguru

 

Saguru leaned into a kiss, letting Kaito lead him down onto the couch in Kaito’s living room. The kiss tasted a bit like the wine Kaito had been drinking earlier during their dinner out with Mum and Otou-san, and it was the perfect ending to a pleasant evening out. He laughed as Kaito broke the kiss to flop on top of him, all warm, muscled weight keeping him comfortably pinned. “The wine going to your head?”

“Mm, or something,” Kaito said, rubbing his face against Saguru’s shoulder like a cat. Saguru rubbed fingers along his scalp and Kaito hummed appreciatively.

“Going to fall asleep on me?” Saguru teased.

Kaito turned and bit Saguru’s thumb lightly, grinning around it as Saguru’s breath caught in his throat. “Not so sleepy, no,” Kaito said, letting go. “But I do have a question.”

“Oh?”

Kaito propped himself on Saguru’s chest and tapped Saguru’s bad knee gently. Saguru bent the leg automatically, blinking when Kaito’s tap became a brush of thumb against his tibia. “Your knee...”

“Yes?” Saguru asked, an unpleasant feeling he knew where this was going.

“You never got a knee replacement even though doctors recommended it.”

The mood building between them dissipated as Saguru let his head thump back against the cushions. “Really? Did my parents put you up to this?”

“No,” Kaito said, still rubbing right below Saguru’s knee where he knew it eased the ache in the joint. “I just have been looking into things lately. Like the fact that you could get almost perfect mobility back if you got the surgery. Now, how bad your hips are from all the years of compensating I don’t know, but...”

“You just happen to wait until an evening Otou-san brings the matter up to pull this out,” Saguru said flatly.

“Is there a better time?”

“I could think of plenty. Like not when we’re in the middle of an intimate moment.”

“But it’s an intimate question,” Kaito said, leaning down to kiss the tip of Saguru’s nose.

Saguru sputtered, staring cross-eyed up at him.

Kaito followed it with other light kisses and Saguru tried not to melt under the assault.

“Kaito...”

“You never said why,” Kaito murmured against his throat between kisses, “you didn’t get the surgery done.”

“It was never a good time,” Saguru said.

“There’s never a good time,” Kaito said. He scraped teeth below Saguru’s earlobe.

Saguru squeezed his eyes shut. Unfortunately, that just made everything feel more acutely. “Are you trying to seduce me into getting knee surgery?”

“Would that work?” Kaito asked, teasing. Saguru scowled at him. Kaito, entirely ignoring his ire, kissed him on the forehead. “I just want a full answer,” he said. “And ‘not a good time’—“ He kissed Saguru on the mouth and Saguru let him, albeit a bit irritated at how easy it was to get caught up in Kaito’s touches. “—isn’t a full answer,” Kaito finished, lips brushing against Saguru’s with the words.

Damn it all. Saguru couldn’t not answer when Kaito was like this, all affectionate and concerned and just the edge of something more sensual. “It’s... it’s stupid.”

“It can’t be that stupid; this is you we’re talking about. Now if it were me...”

Saguru swatted his shoulder lightly and Kaito laughed. “I’m afraid to get the surgery done,” Saguru admitted. “Part of me is convinced that it will get infected again and I’ll lose my leg. It might not be the most reliable leg, but I’d rather have it than not, pain and all.”

Kaito gave him another light kiss. “Not stupid. That’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be afraid of, considering.”

“But you think it’s worth the risk to have a usable knee again.”

“If it were my body, yes, definitely,” Kaito said. “But I can see why you wouldn’t if that’s where you’re coming from.”

Saguru sighed. This had been brought up time after time by people in his life and he did understand why. He just had a mental block on following through and while he knew it was mostly fear, there was that itch in the back of his mind spouting statistics and comparing them to the chance of an infection the first time. “I’ll think about it,” he said, meaning it. Maybe it was time to weigh it all in his mind again and decide whether he would try his chances or not. He’d lived through a lot more terrifying things in the last two years than the possibility of a surgery going wrong.

“I won’t ask anything more than that,” Kaito said. He smiled and Saguru smiled back, not as happier as earlier but still genuine. “I know I kind of ruined the mood, but...” Kaito’s nose brushed against Saguru’s and he pressed a bit more firmly between Saguru’s legs.

Saguru felt breathless all over again. “I am entirely willing to rewind the mood of the last few minutes,” he said, holding on to Kaito’s hips like a lifeline.

He felt Kaito’s Kid-like grin against his lips. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand then it takes Kaito like 2 more years before Saguru finally decides, yes, yes it would be worth it to get a knee replacement. Because Saguru’s stubborn and nervous about this and Kaito’s persistent and just keeps bringing the topic up in ‘let’s discuss why or why not’ without being too pressure-y and basically works Saguru around to acceptance of the idea. Haha.
> 
> If anyone is interested I did some drawings for NLTSA [ here ](http://lisatelramor.tumblr.com/post/179292873011/finally-painted-those-sketches-from-my-fic-not)


	27. A Morning with Mel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a tiny bit with Mel! (one more snippet featuring him to follow next week) If you just want happy, only read the first part. If you're here for the angst fest of Saguru's life post Mel, read past it, but those are only snippets because even I didn't want to actually immerse myself into deep grieving Saguru brain and write the full effect of the fallout. Despite appearances, I don't enjoy making characters (and myself) suffer that much >_>;;;;
> 
> Question, would readers prefer the final non-prequel extra for this universe to go to this extra chapter collection or be a standalone thing? It is still being written and currently 17000 words so... Uh. yeah. ._. Bit longer than most of the extras here. It's like an epilogue to the epilogue of the main story if that helps any with Saguru returning to London to tie up loose ends there... (not sure when I'll be posting it as it's getting blocked at all turns lately, but yeah, it's a thing)

Saguru had made it halfway through his morning papers when Mel wandered into the kitchen. He was rumpled, an old cast shirt on over his pants and brown hair sticking up in one side like it always did before Mel had taken the time to tame it.

“Morning, Luv,” Mel said, making a beeline for the coffee pot. It had been ready and brewed for the last ten minutes, Saguru having timed it around Mel’s usual waking time when he got home late. Mel poured a cup with an appreciative sigh, taking his first mouthful black before adding his usual sugar and cream. “Breakfast?”

“I’ve already eaten,” Saguru said with a wave at his empty plate, the crumbs from his toast all that remained aside from a second cup of tea still warm at his elbow.

Mel tsked, opening cupboards and the refrigerator to get ingredients for a proper breakfast of sausage, eggs, and potato. “You’ll be hungry later.”

“I’ll manage,” Saguru said, turning a page in the Asahi Shinbun.

“How’s Japan looking this morning?” Mel asked, dicing a potato as sausage started to sizzle on the stove.

“Fear of economic bubbles, optimism in the realm of sports with the winter Olympics coming up, and the Imperial family has another grandchild on the way.”

“News on your thief?” Before Saguru could think to protest, Mel continues with, “yeah, yeah, not your thief, you’ve said it a thousand times.”

“If I’ve said it thousand times, you’d think you’d stop calling him mine.”

“I know of him in context of you, ergo, your thief.” Potatoes in with the sausage with more sizzling.

Saguru smiled and rolled his eyes. “Nothing about Kaitou Kid today it seems. It’s been a quiet month for him.”

“Even thieves have lives, yeah?”

“Mm, more likely he’s planning something bigger.”

“You’d know.” Mel added eggs to the mix.

Saguru felt a bit hungry again smelling the food, but he really didn’t need it today; he didn’t have anything active planned. It was something of a running joke by now how Saguru kept up with Kid’s goings on in Japan, though Saguru hadn’t been back to Japan for more than brief family visits in years. More often than not these days, family visited him than the other way around. Mel liked to joke that Saguru was Kid’s mind reader when Saguru picked apart post-heist articles, but with so much time it was only speculation. It was nostalgic more than anything, something that kept him tied to his high school self.

Mel plunked his plate beside Saguru’s, stealing the paper to glance through it despite how he could only read a handful of Japanese words. “Scandalous,” he drawled at a photo of politicians shaking hands over a meeting for a forest preservation act.

Saguru laughed, stealing it back. “Yes, nature preservation is very scandalous.”

“It could be,” Mel said, for all appearances serious.

Saguru snorted and folded his paper away. “How was rehearsal?”

“The usual. Repetitive, draining, and full of errors and changes as the first week off book always is. Bound to be coming along by the end of the week.”

“So you say with a smile.”

Mel shrugged, grinning around his fork. “I live lucky to be immersed in my passion.” He swallowed the bite. “And speaking of passion, your Mum called to remind us about your cousin’s recital tomorrow. In case you’d forgotten.”

“I hadn’t.” The date was marked down in his schedule, time jotted down in green like all events family related.

“Well, I would hope not since it’s your cousin,” Mel teased. “Can’t have another scandal like missing a family event you were supposed to attend again, hmm?”

“It was one time and it was due to unforeseen circumstances of an unexpected case. Catherine understood.”

“While I felt like a right fool showing up alone.”

Saguru drank his tea, pointedly not reacting.

Mel sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to get gentrified. How your uncle react if I showed up dressed as Lord Byron.”

“Don’t, they’d only get into how it reminded them of what they refer to as my ‘Holmes phase.’”

“They have no idea you never outgrew it, do they.”

Saguru gave in to temptation and snuck a bite of sausage off Mel’s plate. Mel gave him a smug look which Saguru pretended not to notice. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a character.”

“Of course.” Mel pointedly left a few bites close to the edge of his plate for Saguru to snitch. “Now there’s an idea, you go as Holmes and I can be your Watson.”

“Or you can be Holmes and I’m Watson for once.”

“You’re the detective, Luv, bum leg or not you’re Holmes.” Mel leaned comfortably into Saguru’s side and Saguru curled an arm around him. It was nice and warm and just flirtatious enough to feel like a morning indulgence. “Mm,” Mel said finishing off his coffee, “I should just start being your official chronicler. Write up all your cases with the names changed and be a proper Watson. Some of them are dramatic enough to belong in the theatre.”

“Yes, but that path invites potential lawsuits,” Saguru said drily. He went to take the last sip of tea only to have Mel steal that too.

“It’s sweet,” Mel accused. “You used honey again. Since when did you gain a sweet tooth?”

“It’s from picking up your cup one too many times.”

Mel laughed at that. “If your younger self knew you put honey in your tea, you’d face the same lecture you gave me about the sanctity of pure black tea and whatever other rot you were on about.”

“I like both ways,” Saguru said primly. He wouldn’t ever admit that he’d started sweetening his second cup of tea because Mel often stole a sip or two and preferred it sweet. With reluctance, he pulled away. Saguru had to leave for work soon and had a bit of his routine to complete first.

“You should have woke me up,” Mel said, watching Saguru bustle dishes into the sink to wash later that night. “I feel cheated of my morning time.”

“You needed the sleep.”

“I could have made it up after you left for work.”

Saguru leaned down to give Mel a quick kiss. “We’ll meet for dinner tonight and we’re together all tomorrow evening. Then it’s the weekend.”

“I’d rather have our weekend lie in now,” Mel sighed, but pushed Saguru toward the door. “Go on, go educate young minds.”

Saguru laughed. “Have a nice day following your passion!”

“Always!” Mel called after him.

 

* * *

 

_AN: Now only read the following if you're in the mood for disjointed angst. I didn't properly write Saguru post Mel being shot, but these snippets were what came out a few years back when I thought about it...uh, directly right after writing that happy scene. Of course. >_>_

* * *

 

Saguru poured cold coffee down the drain for a fourth day in a row. The twelfth time he found himself staring at the coffee pot with coffee grounds in one hand and water in the other, the numbness melted into anger. He couldn’t remember the next few minutes, but when he came out of the blinding rage at the world, the coffee pot was shattered and the machine was broken in two and his hand bled sluggishly from a cut where a glass sliver rebounded.

 ***

He took a sip of tea, sweet with honey, and couldn’t take another swallow. It tasted like Mel liked it and it was too much. The honey was shoved to the back of the cupboard of spices and stable goods that Saguru almost never used.

 ***

He’d been eating toast for two meals a day for the last half a week and he didn’t want to cook, didn’t want to eat at all. The other meal came from the sympathy food friends had shoved on him with all the best intentions of the world. Saguru supposed that the gift was fitting since he was in no condition to care for himself at the moment.

 ***

The beep of hospital machines was a death knell. Brain dead. The respirator breathed and his heart still beat slowly, slowly, but his body went into a coma and hadn’t come out. Would never come out, from the sound of it. It was an ache that went on and on to sit in the room with the empty shell of the man he loved, but he couldn’t bring himself not to either. Just like he couldn’t bring himself to tell them to pull the plug. Because there was a tiny hope.

But Mel wouldn’t be able to breathe without the machines, might not even be able to keep his heart going unassisted much longer, and Saguru knows there had to be a choice.

He was the medical proxy after all.

Three days since they declared him brain dead. Three days, and it could be months of this…this nothing.

The doctor stood to the side, waiting for Saguru’s input. He had to make the choice.


	28. Mel Meets Takumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this isn't canon to this universe because I at one point wrote about Mel meeting Saguru's dad for the first time under different circumstances in London. But. I forgot I wrote that and wrote this, then found the other when editing and was very much "Well this is still cute" so you get it as an extra :P

Mel slipped out of the bakery, leaving Saguru to it. There was only so much staring at cakes while Saguru debated between ratios of cream he could take at one time. Granted, it was just probably Saguru’s nerves speaking, but it was putting Mel on edge, and with less than an hour until he met Saguru’s father for the first time, he wasn’t really sure he could handle more tension at the moment. He sat at a bench and looked up at the vaulted ceiling of the shopping mall. He never realized it would be so hard to choose an appropriate gift. If he hadn’t been reading up on Japanese culture, he wouldn’t have realized a gift would even be expected.

It wasn’t weird to be terrified of meeting your boyfriend’s father face to face for the first time, right? That distant voice over phone and video chat was one thing, it was another to stand in the same room. Well, Saguru’s Mum was great, so his dad couldn’t be too terrifying, right?

He sighed, turning his attention back down toward the rest of the mall. A child stared at him from a few feet away. Mel smiled. The child didn’t smile back. Instead he came closer and sat at the other end of the bench, still staring.

“Your eyes are different,” the boy said bluntly. “Like people on TV.”

Like people on TV? Mel raised an eyebrow. Well, there could have been worse ways to point out he was Caucasian. “That’s because I’m not Japanese,” Mel said, humoring the kid. “I’m from a different country.”

“You sound different too. A different country like China or America or…uh…like Russia?” the kid asked, frowning as he fished about for different countries.

“I’m from England.” That was met with a blank stare. “In Europe.”

“Like France?”

Mel smiled. “Right next to France, actually.”

“Tou-san took Kaa-san to France once. I was too little to go.”

“That’s nice.” There wasn’t any adult around that looked like they were missing their child. “Are your parents missing you?”

“No.” The boy kicked his feet as they dangled from the bench. “Tou-san’s talking to Kaa-san on the phone again. They won’t miss me for a while.”

“I’m sure they’ll be worried when they realize you’re gone.” What did you do when a random child came up to you in a mall? Find mall security? Try to locate the parent? Heck, maybe he should just talk to the kid to keep him from wandering around.

“Tou-san always finds me. It’s fine.” The kid looked up. “I like dogs.”

“…Dogs are very nice. Friendly.”

“Kaa-san says I can’t have a dog cuz they’re too hard to take care of. But Shiemi-chan says cats take care of themselves so I should get a cat, but Kaa-san’s allergic and Tou-san can’t have pets and Baa-chan said she can’t get a cat cuz she’s looking after Tou-san’s birds. Birds are nice, but you can’t hug a bird like a cat.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about if a bird was huggable.”

“Birds get hurt easy.” With that ominous statement, the boy turned and said, “I’m Takumi. What’s your name?”

“I’m Meallán,” Mel said, remembering in time to not offer a handshake. Certain ingrained reflexes were harder to ignore than others.

“Mellon?” Takumi asked, wide eyed.

“…Close enough.” Between the language barrier and the childish pronunciation, that was probably as close as he would get.

“Do you like fruit?”

“Er.” It took a beat to follow the trail of logic. “Yes?”

“Me too. Tou-san hates fish.”

And now they were on to food. Well, Mel could do food. He needed to meet more—five? Six?—year olds to see if this skipping around of topics was normal. “Do you hate fish too?”

“It’s okay. I like Kamen Yaiba cereal and the popsicles that make your tongue blue more. But Kaa-san says I can’t have them a lot cuz they’re not good for you. What’s your favorite food?”

“Treacle tart,” Mel said. Still no sign of a parent, and Saguru was still debating cakes.

The boy was looking at him like he’d said something profound.

“What?” Mel asked.

“Like Harry Potter?” Takumi asked. His legs stopped kicking as he pinned Mel with the full intensity of his stare as only a child could.

“Yep.” That had been part of why he’d liked it as a child, the connection to the books coming through.

“Cool!” Takumi grinned. “What’s it taste like?”

“Hmm…Buttery, a bit like caramel and lemon and ginger, and really really sweet.”

“Wow. I wanna try it.”

“You can probably make one.” If they could get the ingredients in Japan. He didn’t really know.

“Maybe.” The kid looked distracted again. “Kaa-san and Tou-san can’t bake.”

“I see.” There was silence for a minute. Mel glanced back into the shop. Saguru was talking to someone, standing over a display of dark chocolate cakes, but waving toward the matcha green tea cakes nearby, so still no decision there. “You wouldn’t happen to remember your dad’s phone number, would you?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

“Are you married?’ Takumi asked suddenly.

“No, I’m not. But,” he added when the kid looked weirdly disappointed by this, “I do have someone I like a lot.”

“Is she pretty?”

“ _He_ is good looking. But he probably wouldn’t want to be called pretty.”

He got a blank look. “Boys can’t marry boys.”

“Some boys like boys. And in Britain, they can marry each other too.”

“Huh. You wanna marry the guy then?”

Mel glanced over his shoulder at Saguru scrutinizing chocolate curls. It felt a little ridiculous to confide in a kid, but… “Yeah. But it’s a secret because I don’t know if he wants to marry me yet.”

“Did you ask him?”

“Of course not.” Come to think of it, they’d never really talked about their stances on marriage at all.

“Well of course you don’t know if he wants to. You gotta ask if you want to know the answer.” Takumi looked so exasperated that Mel had to laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right. I won’t know until I ask.”

Takumi nodded and went back to kicking his feet and crowd watching. “If two boys can marry, I should marry Kei-kun so he’d have to share his cat.”

“You know, marriages usually are a bit more—”

Takumi stopped kicking and jumped to his feet, his whole face lighting up. “Tou-san!”

Mel looked up at a stressed-looking man tucking a cell phone away. He opened his arms to catch Takumi’s enthusiastic hug.

“Takumi, you need to stop running off or you mom is going to kill me.” Worry melted into relief as he looked his son over and found him whole.

“She wouldn’t!” Takumi laughed.

“No, she’d find some way to arrest me, which would be worse.”

“Tou-san.” Takumi tugged on his father’s hand. “I made a friend.”

Mel waved from the bench sheepishly.

The man bowed slightly. “Thank you for looking out for him,” he said in accented English.

Mel waved the gratitude away and replied in his own heavily accented Japanese, “It seemed better to stay in one place. I’m glad you could find each other.”

The man nodded again and swooped Takumi up into his arms. “Takumi, it’s time to get you home for dinner,” he said, tickling his son’s stomach. Takumi laughed and squirmed. “Thank you again,” the man said to Mel as he turned to leave.

Over his shoulder, Takumi waved. “Bye, Mellon-san! Hope your boyfriend says yes!”

Mel’s smile and wave in return was forced. He buried hid face in his hands the second they rounded a turn, cheeks burning. Aaaah, nothing like unexpectedly having your sexuality broadcast to the whole world. Lovely. Not that he usually cared, just…

Saguru finally exited the store, cake box in hand. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine.” Mel uncurled from his hunch. “What did you decide on?”

“Two matcha and two chocolate cakes. We can cut them in half to share, and Otou-san gets to enjoy both his favorites.”

“Perfect.” Mel took the box so Saguru had his hands free. Cake for a good first impression face to face with the father of the man he was in love with. Yup. Mel could do this. He let Saguru lead the way and smiled.


	29. Christmas at Aoko's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this takes place just a day or so after the last scene of the epilogue of NTLSA. I had a tiny snippet of this that had been discarded when writing the last chapter of NLTSA, but since it's Christmastime, have it expanded to its own scene :) Since. Christmas and all. Happy Holiday season guys!

It was weird to be sitting in Aoko’s living room with Kaito at his side and Takumi fidgeting with excitement next to a cheap paper Christmas tree that looked like it had been made with a couple of pieces of green cardstock. Considering neither Aoko nor Takumi celebrated the holiday for religious reasons, it was more decoration than he’d expected. The invitation hadn’t been expected either, but it seemed that Takumi had wanted to share their holiday routine since Saguru had invited him and Kaito to pre-Christmas baking as part of Saguru’s routine. When Takumi asked, Saguru hadn’t been able to say no even knowing the high likelihood that it could end in disaster. Yet here they were, sitting in the same room without anyone killing anyone yet.

They’d eaten the odd Japanese tradition of fried chicken and Christmas cake before Takumi tugged them into the living room to exchange gifts.

They’d given Takumi his gifts first, a new lacrosse stick from Aoko, a multi-tool from Kaito, and a novel Saguru had come across that he’d thought Takumi might like. They’d been well-received with smiles, though the whole time Kaito and Aoko had kept glancing at each other like they were waiting for the whole thing to fall apart.

Surprisingly, it seemed they usually gave each other gifts at Christmas as well, even with everything between them, though Kaito had said they were predictable and not always given with the most friendly intent over the years. He’d listed off the exchanges when they’d been out shopping together. Aoko got something floral from Kaito, Kaito almost always got an addition to his clock ‘collection’.

The gift Aoko held out to Kaito was bigger than expected, rectangular instead of the square of an average wall clock box. Kaito took it with a wry smile.

“Let me guess,” Kaito said, slitting open the wrapping paper, “another cl—ock.” It wasn’t a clock, but something roughly shaped like a scrapbook. Kaito looked over at Aoko, shock and gratitude mingling openly in his expression. “I thought you threw this out.”

Aoko shrugged. She couldn’t quite look his direction as she waved a hand. “Someone rescued it from the trash,” she said, waving a hand like it would make the gift mean less. “I just found it when I was cleaning the closet and figured you would get more from it than I would.”

“What is it?” Saguru asked. He leaned over Kaito’s shoulder to see better. Kaito opened up leather binding to reveal photos—high school photos—some of him, some of Aoko, most together. There was even Saguru in the background of some as Kaito flipped through slowly. “When were these even taken?”

“When we graduated—so after you left—a few classmates got together and pooled all the photos they took from high school and made albums for everyone. They gave Aoko and me a shared album since we were all but married by that point.” He paused on a page, the Aoko in the picture blushing and clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t pleased while Kaito grinned at her, something small hidden in his hand. Takumi settled on Kaito’s other side to look too. “They even got me proposing to her.”

“Because you had to be a dork and propose in front of everyone in class,” Aoko grumbled. “It would have been more romantic somewhere else.”

“You were happy enough about it at the time,” Kaito said, sticking his tongue out at her. Aoko rolled her eyes. The next page was Aoko kissing Kaito in front of the whole class, so yes, she must have been happy. Kaito smiled at the photo. “Thank you, Aoko, really.”

Aoko sighed. “Well... If we’re starting over, I figured I might as well give you something you actually wanted this year.”

Kaito laughed. “Makes me feel a bit silly with my gift...”

“Flowers?” she asked, smiling crookedly.

“Flowers,” Kaito agreed. “Although this year...” He walked to where he’d set his gifts, pulling out the orchid he’d carefully bundled to transport it through the cold. “I thought something that lasted might be nice. Instead of cut flowers. And if it’s cared for, it’ll bloom again.” Its blossoms were a delicate, pale pink, two flower stems supported by sticks.

Aoko snorted, taking the pot with a tenderness to her smile that was rarely directed at Kaito these days. “It’s beautiful. And don’t think I missed the metaphor there; care for it and it’ll bloom again.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a metaphor,” Kaito protested, “but sure, that works too.”

At his seat on the floor, Takumi shifted, clearly getting tired of waiting. “Okay,” he said a bit too loud. “I’m really glad you’re not at each other’s throats and we can actually have a decent gift exchange this year, but can I give my gifts now?” His open presents were at his knees but he’d kept a small pile of hand-wrapped gifts at his side, waiting to pass them out.

Aoko rolled her eyes. “Have at it.”

“Here!” Takumi shoved a box toward Kaito, then a bag to Aoko and a rectangular wrapped package at Saguru. “Y’know with how much I’ve been grounded I actually had money to buy gifts this year,” Takumi said with wry humor.

“Do we open them in a particular order?” Kaito joked.

“Just open them!”

Kaito laughed and slit open the paper. Inside was a plain box, but when he opened it up it was full of small trinkets, all Kid memorabilia.

“So,” Takumi said, fiddling with the paper tree nervously, “I figured since you’ve been trying to keep it secret so long and you stopped pretending to be a Kid fan when you married Kaa-san—well, sort of stopped with being a Kid fan—” Saguru vaguely remembered that being something Kaito mentioned as a conflict before their divorce. “—you probably didn’t keep and Kid merchandise and after your farewell heist things kind of exploded for a bit with Kid stuff, so...” Takumi waved a hand at the box. “Shiemi picked the best ones she saw since I was still grounded. I just thought you might like a, er, positive reminder of it now that you retired.”

Kaito lifted a keychain and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. Aoko looked resigned, but surprisingly not upset.  Saguru had a feeling that Kaito was going to add the gifts to the collection of actual Kid items in his secret room. Kaito was slowly transitioning it into something like a museum with records of all his heists and the tricks he’d performed at them.

“Me next I guess,” Aoko said.

She pulled tiny bottles and packets out of the bag one by one until she had what amounted to a home spa kit by her feet.

“I couldn’t afford to get you an actual ticket to a spa,” Takumi said by way of explanation. “So, home spa it is. One day of your choice where you can spend it relaxing and I’ll take care of anything you need or want, okay?”

Aoko snorted, holding up what looked like a face mask. “I’ll hold you to that. I haven’t exactly spent much time relaxing the last few years.”

“All the more reason,” Takumi said. “Now you, Hakuba-sensei,” he said turning to Saguru.

Saguru opened his gift with good humor. A collection of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes DVDs emerged from the wrapping.

“You mentioned that was your favorite adaptation of Holmes,” Takumi said, more nervous about this than he had been with the other two gifts. “I found someone selling it online and thought you might like it...”

“I do,” Saguru said, touched that Takumi had remembered something said in passing at a literature club meeting. “I haven’t watched them in years.” He’d never had the whole collection either, only a few of the films. These had been remastered and restored with all of the films Rathbone had played Holmes in. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Takumi said, beaming. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Takumi.”

“Christmas puzzle time!” Kaito announced, pulling a box seemingly out of thin air—Saguru wasn’t sure how he’d manage to hide it, but he must have grabbed it the same time he got Aoko’s gift. “Saguru, you have your tradition, but Takumi and I put a puzzle together every year.” Usually not with Aoko, Saguru guessed, as Kaito turned to her. “Can we take over your table for a while?”

Aoko shrugged. “Have at it. Though you’d better not leave me out.”

Takumi’s face lit up. He snatched the box. “Kitchen table! It has the best lighting!”

Kaito snickered as Takumi ran out of the room. “I got one without a picture on the box this year. It’s a puzzle surprise.”

“Let me guess, it’s something with complex and similar patterns, isn’t it?”

“Abstract,” Kaito confirmed. “It’s going to be an eyestrain.”

“Sounds like something we’ll all enjoy then.”

Aoko laughed at them. “Let’s see, a police inspector, an ex-detective, a man who has put half-destroyed relics back together piece by piece, and a high school student. Who has the advantage here?”

“Takumi of course,” Kaito said. “He hasn’t had half the eye strain as the rest of us.”

Aoko swatted at him cheerfully as they moved to the kitchen.

Takumi popped his head around the corner. “Oh yeah, were there any other gifts left to exchange?”

Saguru glanced at Aoko. He had something small for her, but he and Kaito had decided to forgo gifts in exchange for a trip the next time they both had time. “Just this.” He gave Aoko a small bag with a decorative scented candle.

“Thank you, Hakuba-san.” She gave him back a package of store-bought candies. Black tea flavored.

Saguru smiled. “I didn’t know that they made something like that. Thank you.”

“I’m always amazed what some stores carry.” She grinned at Takumi. “Now we can do the puzzle.”

“Perfect. I call edge pieces,” Takumi said, dumping the box on the table.

Kaito took a moment to join them and so Saguru lingered too, standing in the doorway as Aoko and Takumi bent over puzzle pieces.

“Sorry,” Kaito said, barely a whisper. “It’s just... this is the sort of thing I’ve wished would happen for years and it doesn’t quite feel real yet.”

Saguru caught him in a half hug. “Hopefully there will be many more years of this.”

“Yeah.” Kaito pecked Saguru on the lips and went to join the others at the table.

Aoko raised an eyebrow at Saguru. Saguru blushed. He still got caught off guard by a simple act of affection. Well, more affection in front of people. Thankfully, Aoko just looked amused.

“You get to look for pieces with blue on them, Hakuba-san,” Aoko said.

Saguru took a seat by Kaito and started looking for pieces to put together.


	30. To London, To London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer than I thought it was going to take to write--I kept wanting to do a proper casefic in the middle and getting stuck, but it wasn't to be. My brain does not like writing mystery no matter how much I try to force it. :/ BUT! This is finally done and hopefully is a satisfactory conclusion to the series. It's set a year from the start of Not Left To Stand Alone, so in March right before the new school year begins :) Appropriate that this story finishes here as well as surprisingly appropriate for me to end it the same time of year in real life. Here's to moving forward and new years and endings as beginnings of new things. Thank you everyone who's read along and all comments in the last year. It was one of the brighter things from last year. Hope to see you again with future writing projects ^_^

To London, To London

The walk up to the London flat was one Saguru could do in his sleep. He’d lived six years of his adult life in that flat, walking to a store down the road or driving to work down the crowded streets because the public transit was further than he wanted to walk with a bum leg. There was the coffee shop a block away that had a weekly music night he and Mel occasionally went to. There was the Indian restaurant that Saguru got takeaway at when neither of them felt like cooking. There was the neighbor who had a cat that liked sunning itself on Saguru’s balcony. The downstairs neighbor had plants on her balcony again this year, and window boxes just starting to have bits of green poking up.

The front door still had the ‘Welcome Holmes’ welcome mat in front that Mel got him as a joke. It was covered in a few months’ worth of dirt and debris, the person Mum had taking care of the apartment clearly not extending that to the outside very often. As he approached what had been his home, Saguru had to stop and take a moment to breathe past all the bittersweet memories around him.

A hand touched his elbow, and Saguru looked back at Kaito. Kaito who was out of place here, but also paradoxically fit in seamlessly. The touch helped, grounding him in the here and now instead of the past. “Nice welcome mat,” Kaito said lightly.

Saguru could kiss him. He didn’t since he didn’t feel inclined to public displays of affection at the moment. “It was a birthday gift. From Mel.”

“Impeccable taste,” Kaito said.

Saguru smiled. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Kaito. He might have left this go indefinitely, paying for a flat he never used and storage for things he no longer needed but didn’t want to let go. Starting things anew with Kaito... that made him want to resolve everything. It still took more than a few seconds to muster the will to unlock the door and let them in. Saguru ushered Kaito in before him.

He didn’t know what Kaito saw in the apartment. Saguru stepped in and he saw the walls with faded squares where photos once hung, the missing clutter and covered up furniture. He saw the scruffs on the baseboard from years of hasty vacuuming, the faint difference in the wall where it had been plastered over after being dented moving a new couch in. He saw the lack of shoes by the door and the dust trapped in the corners. He smelled the stale air of a room shut up too long and the slightly off smell old wood got when it wasn’t aired out enough. There was the flecks of paint on the light switch cover from when Mel repainted the entryway. Divots in the wood floor where they dropped a heavy jar of tomato sauce that had exploded all over the floor and walls. The lack of soft music playing in the background. The blinds closed and the rooms dim. A box with all of Mel’s recent playbooks next to the empty bookshelf because Saguru had decided not to take them to Japan in his hasty flight from London. Left with the distant thought that maybe Mel’s parents would want them even though they’d only asked to have some photos and the set of dishes Mel’s grandmother gave them at their wedding.

Saguru didn’t move from the doorway for long enough that Kaito had to tug him forward and close the door behind them.

The bedroom door was shut to their right, the office and guest room open across from it, followed by the bathroom and the kitchen/living area at the end of the hall. Kaito glanced at the open office and walked past it toward the living area where the empty bookshelf and some stacked boxes were visible. Saguru swallowed hard, forcing the messy tangle of emotions rising in him down. It had been a bit over a year since he was here; he could handle walking in his old home.

“It’s nice,” Kaito said as he turned in the middle of Saguru’s old living room. There was the sofa with a dust cover. There, the kitchen table with the chairs upside down on top. There by the wall an antique side table with a marble top that used to house plants Mum gave them, by the balcony sliding glass door so they would get sunlight and could be moved outside in good weather.

Knowing what the room once was, and all the things it was missing, Saguru found he couldn’t share the sentiment. Stripped of the majority of its trappings, the room looked too bare; a shell of what it once was. Too big as well, compared to where he was living now. Too big for Saguru alone. “It used to be nicer,” Saguru said after a moment that went on a beat too long. Saguru’s mystery collection, Mel’s Shakespeare collection, and the handful of knickknacks they’d collected over the years were in Japan, most still in boxes in Saguru’s childhood bedroom. The plants Mum had given to a friend and her cousin. All the art from the walls had been carefully packed and shipped to the mansion in Japan along with Saguru’s clothing, case records, important paperwork, and an odd assortment of things that Mum had deemed important to bring since Saguru hadn’t been compelled to go through Mel’s things when he was trying to run from everything.

He realized he’d once again stood too long, lost in his thoughts. Saguru shook himself, ignoring Kaito’s worried look, and moved to the kitchen. Cutlery in the drawers—could be donated, not of immediate importance and no sentimental attachment. Same to the dishes in the cupboards; Mel’s parents took the only sentimental dishware. Well, minus Saguru’s old favorite teapot. He took it down. It was nothing special to look at, antique but not flashy, just a squat cream colored teapot with orange and black and gold flowers around the top that they’d bought on a whim and kept because it didn’t drip like half the teapots Mel’s mother collected. It went on the counter for things to take back with him.

“Didn’t clean out your cupboards,” Kaito commented when Saguru opened one of the food cupboards. It was still stocked with non-perishables; boxes of pasta and spices and tea that Saguru only ever drank once in a blue moon. Kaito picked up a tin of sardines. “The dates are still good on some of these.”

“I suppose that can be donated too.” He should start a list. Find a box or something to put things in and sort it out so that it could be donated, kept, or thrown away. He’d have to go get boxes because if he remembered correctly, they’d used all the empty ones lying around when he left.

“Please tell me you emptied the fridge.”

“I think Mum did.” A quick check confirmed it. Both the refrigerator and freezer were empty, the settings turned down low to conserve energy. Left like he might move back at any moment. Or so that it could be rented out should he ever want to, Saguru thought. “I don’t remember much about the packing,” Saguru admitted, closing the refrigerator. “Mum had some boxes and I know I threw clothing in them and put all my photos and keepsakes in another. Books. But Mum did most of it.”

Kaito nodded, understanding. “I did about the same when Aoko kicked me out. And when I moved into my apartment. Of course I went back and got more things from my mom’s house later and things add up, but at first I didn’t even have a bed or food, just a spare set of clothes and an electric kettle for instant noodles and tea until I pulled things together.”

Saguru nodded back. When life uprooted you, things got lost in the scramble or set aside, or forgotten. Now he was picking up where he left off now that he was at a better state of mind. “Three piles,” he murmured to himself. Boxes could be found later. The kitchen wasn’t really what he needed to go through though. There was the hall closet, the office, and lastly, the bedroom.

“It’s a lot bigger,” Kaito said, trailing after Saguru as Saguru wandered back toward the office, “than your apartment now. Or my apartment really. Easily half again as wide. And a balcony. Nice. I can picture you drinking tea out there and watching the sun rise.”

“Dinner sometimes,” Saguru said. “In the summer we’d get takeaway and eat outside.” The office had been left untouched beyond taking the paperwork from the filing cabinet. That left a collection of miscellaneous gifts given by his students on a shelf over the desk, Mel’s collection of musical posters—he’d had to pick and choose what to hang up after a few years of performing—on the far wall, held up with tacks instead of frames because they were kept for sentimentality, not value of the design that went into them. The framed photos were gone, but there was a lot of personal items scattered around. There were even tests he’d graded and never given back at the end of the school year sitting covered with a thin layer of dust. In short, the room was a mess, probably worse than the bedroom considering they’d stripped most of Saguru’s things from there already. Saguru knew he’d find a mess of Mel’s things if he opened the cupboard in the corner because he’d shoved most of them there when he got heartsick seeing them sitting untouched for months. “Kaito, this is going to take hours.” He wasn’t sure if the words were meant as a warning or an apology.

Kaito gave him an unimpressed look. “I figured it would. It’s not like I have other plans. Or anywhere else to go really. Unless you wanted privacy?”

“No.” Privacy would mean a better chance of getting lost in his head and memories. Kaito’s presence was helpful, grounding him to the here and now. “I appreciate you being here.”

Kaito smiled and clapped a hand on Saguru’s shoulder before wandering over to Saguru’s desk to look at the shelf of teacher gifts. Some of them, like the ‘element of surprise’ chemistry themed mug holding novelty pens, were amusing and thoughtful. The rock painted in an attempt of a molecular structure was well meant. The apple-themed paraphernalia was both tacky and honestly a bit of an eyesore. Saguru hadn’t thrown any of them away because they had been reminders of why he enjoyed teaching, proof that some of his students at least enjoyed his class. He had a file of letters somewhere too, along with a few news clippings of students he’d connected with and seen go on to success later in life. He thought Mum might have packed that with the rest of the files though.

“I suppose I don’t have room for most of that anymore.” He could get rid of the tacky things, and keep his favorites. He’d have to be choosy anyway; mailing things was expensive.

“You don’t have to stay in your matchbook apartment,” Kaito pointed out.

“Well, no, but I like being your neighbor.” Saguru started separating things on his desk into keep, toss, donate piles. “I intend to keep teaching, regardless of how detective work is infiltrating my free time, so I know I could afford to live somewhere larger, but really I would miss being able to walk around the corner to your home.”

Kaito handed him items from the shelf, idly juggling a growing assortment of odds and ends as he did so. “There is a solution to that you know.”

“Hm?” The ‘element of surprise’ mug went in the keep pile. “And what would that be?”

“There’s always the option of getting a place together.”

Saguru missed grabbing the next item handed toward him. The painted rock clattered its way to the discard pile. “Oh.”

“Too soon?” Kaito asked, a grimace on his face. He stilled his juggling.

“No. It’s not.” They all but lived together anyway, two apartments making up a home with how they left their doors open for each other. They ate most meals together and sometimes slept on Saguru’s futon together, and spent most evenings together... They practically co-parented Takumi when he was over. It wouldn’t be that big of a shift. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet is all.” Some days it still felt a little unreal where he’d ended up. Most days it felt right though, so he rolled with how his life had changed.

Kaito handed him the whole assortment of novelty pens. Saguru kept the one that gave you a shock, like the one he’d given Takumi, and tossed the rest.

“I know it would be a little weird,” Kaito said, handing more things over on autopilot. “And there would be the question of where, and how much space and the whole mess of moving... But I don’t technically need to stay at the apartment anymore for Kid reasons, and we practically live together with how your things keep ending up in my room and mine in your closet, and you did say you planned on staying...” He took a deep breath and Saguru listened, patient, for him to reach the end of his rambling. “So maybe we could find someplace nicer. Sort of like this kind of nicer. Room to live and work, and maybe allows pets.”

Saguru smiled picturing Kaito’s doves. They’d need a decent amount of space for keeping birds. And they’d need a room for Takumi, so that would mean at least two bedrooms and an office space. Perhaps two since both Saguru and Kaito had a tendency to take up a decent amount of space with projects. They both had lots of books to house as well. It would get expensive fast, let alone finding a place at a convenient distance from the school that met their desired criteria. Still... “That sounds nice.” He would love to wake up next to Kaito more often. And not have to decide which kitchen they were using that day. “We can think more on it when we get back to Japan, research for someplace we both like when the new semester starts.”

“Yeah?” Kaito smiled back. There was that bit of vulnerable hope in his expression, lacking in masks, and it never failed to make Saguru feel both sappy and a little heartsick when he saw that expression, because he knew how hard it could be for Kaito to hope with anything romantic. There would always be a little part of him that was waiting for a shoe to drop like it had with Aoko, just like a tiny part of Saguru would always be worried that this too would end in tragedy. Thankfully they were both people capable of facing their fears and strengthening trust.

“Of course. I did promise I was staying. The apartment I have now was never meant to be permanent anyway.”

“How do you feel about houses?”

“Depends on the location. I still have my leg to factor in.”

“Right. I’ll start looking for places. Do you think Takumi will be happy or upset if we move?”

“Both,” Saguru said. The piles in front of him grew fast. The desk was bare now, the shelf above it scattered into categories. “We should talk to him about it before we make any changes. It’s his home too.”

“True.” Kaito crouched down for a quick peck on the cheek before dragging open drawers. “Thanks, Saguru.”

_No, thank you_ , Saguru thought as Kaito began pulling out papers, looking so much happier than a few moments ago. Kaito’d managed to cheer up both of them in the span of a few minutes, working his magic like always. Saguru returned to the task at hand feeling lighter. Not even going through Mel’s assorted belongings in the room brought him down, not with Kaito humming some pop song under his breath, or the random comments objects brought up. Saguru ended up with a large pile of trash—mostly paper—a much smaller pile of keepsakes and things like Mel’s laptop found dusty and forgotten under a pile of dog-eared screenplays for auditions he’d been looking through, and one full of things that could probably be donated along with his dishes and usable food items to some local charity group. There was always a need for school supplies.

He’d found at least two dozen note cards and bits of scrap paper with recipes scribbled on them in Mel’s cramped handwriting, some with notations about how to change the recipe for his tastes, and a slightly smushed packet of photographs from their last holiday trip together that Saguru must have stuffed in the cupboard during his quest to avoid reminders of Mel. Clearly he was keeping those.

“How is he not red as a lobster?” Kaito asked, peering at a beach photo over Saguru’s shoulder. Saguru was as topless as Mel in it, but of the two of them, Saguru clearly tanned while Mel didn’t.

“Sunblock. All over, every other hour. Otherwise he’d burn and be left with freckles everywhere after a week of peeling.”

“Ouch,” Kaito said. “I burn, but with a bit of sunblock I’ll tan instead.”

“Irish skin,” Saguru said, having met enough of Mel’s relatives that he could say that with some confidence. Mum wasn’t much better to be honest; somehow he’d lucked out in that genetic lottery.

“You both look happy.”

“We were.” That was a good memory. A day with both of them making fools of themselves in public, too much sand in awkward places, and not a hint of regret at any of it. “He tried to bury me in sand.”

“Please tell me there was a photo of that.”

Saguru flipped to it, the image a bit blurry because Mel had been laughing and that more than slowly being buried in sand had woken Saguru from a post-lunch nap.

“Perfect,” Kaito said.

They went through the rest of the photos together.

***

They took a break to eat some of the canned goods from Saguru’s cupboard before tackling the bedroom. It was pretty clear from the state of the room which was Saguru’s side and which had housed Mel’s things. Saguru’s things had largely been stripped from the room, but Mel’s side still had books stacked and objects poking from an overly-full closet.

“You were really neat and organized,” Kaito said as they opened up the closets, “back in high school. You still are, but with more clutter.”

“Mel’s influence.”

“I can see. How long did it take to reach an agreement about clutter?” There were only a few things left in Saguru’s closet, hung neatly. Mel’s closet was chaos, over-stuffed with things on hangars and odds and ends spilling all over the floor. Saguru knew that some of the things were left from stage productions where Mel had been required to get his own costume parts. Some things even Saguru wasn’t sure where they’d come from.

“It was a point of contention for the first few months. I relaxed my standards of cleanliness and he made more of an effort to reduce the worst of the clutter. Thankfully we both preferred clean common space and not having dishes piled in the sink for days.”

“Is that a sequin dress in there?”

“A Halloween costume. Although he did like to pull it out for laughs.”

“Wish I could have met him.”

“You’d have gotten along, I think. At the very least, I imagine he’d respect you as a fellow showman.”

Kaito took an armful of clothing hangers out and Saguru grabbed things from the pile in the bottom of the closet. A quarter of that mess was shoes for different situations and outfits. “It’s alarming how much a person can accumulate in the better part of a decade. And this is with considerably limited living space compared to what I grew up with. I don’t even want to think about going through my parents’ homes.”

“I thought they only had one home now?”

“There’s a summer cottage in England still. For when they want to visit England, but more affordable than the home Mum raised me in. It belonged to my mother’s father in his retirement and he left it to her in his will.” Saguru set the armload of things on the dusty, covered bed. Kaito was spreading clothing out across the floor. “It was actually a bit of a snub. Her siblings got the nicer property and the contents of most of the estate, but she was left with the summer home and the vastly smaller collection that went with it. Granmum and Mum had a wonderful relationship, but I don’t think Grandfather ever accepted that she married my father.”

“Well that sucks. At least you got along with your other grandfather, right?”

“Mm, he was less interested in propriety, and more in science. His wife was a bit the opposite though. It was a scandal on both sides that they got married honestly, but they did try to not let that affect me. Mum’s father did seem to approve of my detective work. He gave me my pocket watch.” Tap shoes from one of the musicals Mel was in. Jogging shoes. Sleek Oxfords that looked like they’d barely been worn. A shoebox full of—Saguru shut that quickly, mildly embarrassed because he thought that box had been under the bed, not in the closet. ...Not to keep, that would be too awkward in multiple ways.

Kaito glanced at him. “You found something naughty didn’t you.”

“Nothing I didn’t know we owned, just not where I expected to find it.”

Kaito laughed at him. “What do you want done with the clothes?”

“Well they won’t fit either of us,” Saguru said, eying them. Mel had been taller than Saguru and a bit slighter in the shoulders. Longer torso, longer legs, a size larger in general let alone anything that had been tailored. He’d taken good care of his clothing though. “The majority can be donated.” Although... He glanced through what Kaito had taken down before rummaging through the clothes hangers still in the closet. He pulled a T-shirt free. “I’m keeping this though.” It was a production shirt or the first play Mel had performed in professionally. The shirt was well-worn and soft, its screen printed lettering faded from dozens of washes.

“No judgement here. I still have some of Aoko’s stuff.”

“...Why would you have Aoko-san’s clothing?” Or how since Kaito was kicked out?

“Why do you think?”

Kaito should know better than to give an open-answered response because Saguru’s brain filled in a dozen possible reasons, half of them not fit to mention in polite company. “Actually I would rather not know.”

Kaito laughed at him again. “And people say I have the dirty mind.”

“You do.”

“That underrates your own brain, Saguru.”

Saguru ignored him and went back to digging through Mel’s things. Mel kept a lot of random thing that Saguru guessed were for sentimental reasons. Fake flowers squashed under a hat. A dozen belts fallen off their hanger. More scraps of paper, some with drawings, some with recipes, some of them just lists. Shopping lists, to-do lists, gift lists, dates to remember, a completely arbitrary list of ranking different flavors of pies versus cakes. It made Saguru feel nostalgic for Mel standing at the kitchen counter scribbling out one of those lists. Most of the to-do ones were only half checked off which explained why they’d never been thrown away, but Mel always got distracted and ended up writing new lists before the old ones were finished.

Most things didn’t have too much emotion attached. Clothing was clothing. But then there was the suit they’d been married in. There was a box containing the dried boutonnieres that Saguru hadn’t even realized Mel had kept all these years. There were letters back from when Mel was in college, some of them from Saguru before they started dating. Kaito gave Saguru space and kept making a clothing pile to donate. There was a professional stage makeup case Kaito could appreciate, clutter of lighthearted things like bottles of silly string that hadn’t been opened, a board game, handheld games from high school on the top closet shelf that hadn’t been touched in years, or a bent up hula hoop that Saguru didn’t know when it could have gotten in there.

Then there was the box. It was plain, just a white cardboard box with a sticky note on it with “Don’t Forget” written in black sharpie marker. On top was a silk scarf with “for Mum” pinned on it, a book on Spanish culture and cooking—Mel’s parents had been planning a trip to Spain—with a scribbled “for Christmas?” and below that... Tickets to the Body Works exhibit that had been showing. That had “surprise” written on the sticky note attached to that. The tickets were dated a few days before Mel was shot, for the week after. There was a list with ideas for Saguru’s birthday gift tucked next to it.

Kaito’s arms were around him before Saguru realized he was crying. “Damn it,” Saguru said, covering his face. “I thought I was going to be able to get through this without crying.”

“It’s fine. You’re going to be fine,” Kaito said.

“It’s really not.”

“Well, no, not right now it isn’t obviously.” Kaito rubbed circles on his back as Saguru tried to swallow his tears. “But I think we both know that these sort of things aren’t a ‘one-foot-after-another’ kind of path. Life has detours and backtracking and booby traps like boxes in closets to throw at you and it’s okay to feel shit when it happens.”

Saguru gave a watery laugh. “Hell of a booby trap.”

“At least it wasn’t a literal one. Imagine when I found Oyaji’s secret room.”

“Fair enough. That would be a pretty big shock.” This wasn’t a shock so much as an emotional sucker punch he hadn’t realized he’d needed to brace for. He should have realized; Mel was always good at keeping track of upcoming birthdays and holidays and had a habit of finding gifts throughout the year in advance. Saguru never went looking for where he kept them though, for obvious reasons. He closed his eyes and leaned into Kaito. Warm and soothing after their months together. He let go, and the tears stopped sooner by letting them happen.

“Need another break?” Kaito asked kindly.

“No.” Saguru didn’t move though, face still pressed against Kaito’s shoulder.

“So, who’s Anand?”

“Hm?”

“Box,” Kaito said, gesturing with his chin.

Saguru looked and it seemed there had been something else in the box because there was a gaudy-looking necklace with bright, multi-color prisms spilling from the bottom where Saguru had dropped the box. He snorted, amused and feeling lighter all at once. “Anand is one of Mel’s theatre friends. He likes things that glitter.”

“I’d say he has good taste, but that is a really bright necklace.”

“I am fairly sure there was a bet going on who could find the gaudiest piece of costume jewelry.”

“A good friend then.”

“Yeah. A good friend.” And one more person he hadn’t spoken to since Mel’s funeral. There was a twinge of old guilt. He was making more of an effort lately to restore some of the bridges he’d burned. Maybe that was another one he should attempt to fix even though Anand had been more Mel’s friend than Saguru’s. “Would it be kind or cruel to give these gifts to the people they were meant to go to?”

“Depends on the person.”

...Saguru might have a few more stops on his trip in that case. And a mother-in-law to possibly call, although he wasn’t sure that she would still view herself as such considering the circumstances. They’d never been close to begin with. “Maybe a break would be a good idea.”

***

Kaito convinced him to leave the apartment, and within half an hour of wandering London and stopping in at various places he used to frequent, Saguru was feeling closer to equilibrium. London would always be home in a way Tokyo wasn’t. His time in Japan had been vacations and trips, a place he was fond of and had a place in growing up, but not a place he knew in and out. Not where he spent most of his life or where most of his memories were centered in. Tokyo was a second home, but London would always be his first one, so it was nice to share it with Kaito.

“We should bring Takumi sometime,” Kaito said, as they sat at a café. Saguru had a cup of strong British black tea, yet another thing he’d missed. Kaito had gotten coffee as the time difference had him a bit jetlagged. “I always meant to take him abroad sometimes like Kaa-san and Oyaji did with me when I was little, but with everything going on it never happened.”

“Would Aoko let him out of the country?” Saguru asked. Takumi wasn’t grounded anymore, but considering he’d endured three months of restricted freedom and still had Aoko anxious if he was late checking in or somewhere other than he said he’d be, Saguru had to wonder if she’d let him go on a day trip let alone leave Japan.

“Maybe?” Kaito said, sipping at his coffee. He wiggled a hand in the air. “There’s a 50% chance she’d nix the idea outright just because it’s me—and you, actually, considering how trouble’s started following you around. She likes you, but that doesn’t really factor into keeping Takumi away from things that lead to police intervention. But I know she’d like Takumi to get to see more than just Tokyo and a trip here and there to Osaka. Paris is a higher chance of getting an okay than London just because it’s Paris.”

“While Paris is a nice city, I don’t see how France is a better choice than England. Especially considering that Takumi speaks English as a second language. I could swing it as a learning opportunity.”

“No, see it’s a nostalgia thing. We went to Paris once before Takumi was born sort of on our honeymoon. Very romantic. Couldn’t pass up the chance since that’s where Oyaji met Kaa-san.”

Saguru tried to picture Kaito and Aoko on a whirlwind romantic trip in Paris. It wasn’t terribly hard to do, but the image felt odd in his head. The idea of them performing typical romantic gestures just didn’t fit the image Saguru had of their relationship. Add Kaito producing roses from his sleeves every chance he could get and Aoko getting flustered until she tossed them back in his face maybe. Wining and dining under moonlight with the Eiffel Tower in the background? Not so much. He could see Kaito’s father sweeping Kuroba Chikage off her feet in a debonair manner though. He was the one that first established Kid as a charming gentleman thief after all.

“The angle of it being a learning opportunity is a good one though,” Kaito said. “I’ll be sure to use it when I ask next time we plan a visit.”

“Barely here a day and already planning the next trip?” Saguru said, amused.

“Of course. London is important to you. We’re obviously coming back.” Kaito smiled, his lips edging on Kid’s trademark smile. Saguru flushed, wondering if that was the same sort of smile he’d sent Aoko’s way on their honeymoon. “I’d like to get to know Saguru the Londoner a bit better too. You’re more confident here.”

“Between police work and my own exploration, I’ve been a little bit everywhere.”

“Exactly. And confidence is always a good look on you.”

Now Saguru was really blushing. _Really, now, Kuroba, there was no reason to aim that smile his way in public!_ Saguru coughed into his fist. “I thought you found my confidence smug and grating.”

“Amazing how things change when it’s not aimed at me,” Kaito replied, grinning wickedly at flustering Saguru in a public space.

Two could play that game. “That’s odd, I seem to recall you enjoying it directed at you not too long ago.”

Kaito looked too happy at Saguru’s response for a split second before he faked scandalized. “Saguru, we’re in public! There’s a family right there!” He gestured to a woman with two small children sharing a crust-less sandwich.

“It’s a good thing we’re speaking Japanese, then, isn’t it?”

Kaito blinked. “You’re right. I didn’t even notice we swapped back.” He’d been trying to practice English since the plane took off. His accent still was fairly noticeable even if nowhere near so bad as in high school.

“I think we’ve been speaking Japanese since I found Mel’s box.” He hadn’t really registered the shift back either; funny how languages didn’t stand out. He was used to Japanese with Kaito though, so it wasn’t odd that he’d slid back into that language when distressed. It didn’t feel out of place to talk on about London in a language other than its native one either when it came down to Kaito.

“Switch back,” Kaito said in English. “I need more practice. I want to sound correct by the time this trip is over.”

“You’re still a ways off, but fine.”

“It’s annoying. American English is easier to copy.”

“You’re just more exposed to it.”

“True.” Kaito nodded and affected an American accent. It was a lot more passable than his British one. Saguru was willing to bet he’d modeled at least some of that British accent off Saguru. “Kudo speaks American English almost fluently. From all I’ve heard about Hawaii, you’d think it was a miracle place where you can learn anything, even some things questionably legal.”

“It’s America; I imagine there’s a lot of things that you could learn there that are of questionable legality elsewhere in the world.”

“Did you just diss America?” Kaito asked, laughing. He still had that awful American accent.

“I’ll take London and Japan over America. No offense to Americans of course.”

“Of course,” Kaito echoed in Saguru’s British accent. It was almost a spot on copy. Maybe Kaito would get that accent down after all. “Is there anything we need while we’re out?”

Saguru sipped the dregs of his tea. “Boxes,” he said after a moment of thought. “Lots of empty cardboard boxes.”

“Right-o. Let’s get on that after tea, yeah?”

“Please never say anything in that affectated accent again. It’s painful.”

“Aww, I thought I got pretty close that time,” Kaito said, grinning.

“My ears bleed at your butchery of British English.” Saguru smiled though. So easy to smile even when not long ago he was so sad. Kaito had his magic even when he wasn’t performing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Saguru caught the flicker of movement as a woman’s purse disappeared from beside her chair. “Purse snatcher,” Saguru said under his breath.

“I saw it. I’ll play distraction, you catch?” Kaito finished his coffee in one long swallow.

“Works for me.”

They got up at the same time, Kaito making a bee line for the cream and sugar counter as the purse snatcher made his way casually through the tables toward the exit. Saguru went the other way around the table making like he was going for the bathrooms near the door.

Kaito pretended to add sugar and cream into his empty coffee cup, before turning just at the right moment to make it seem accidental and bumping into the purse snatcher. Cream went all down the man’s front. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Kaito said in American English. He grabbed a napkin and started trying to dab at the mess.

The man batted his hand away. “It’s fine,” he said, moving toward the door as eyes turned toward him.

Saguru, now near the door, caught the arm holding the purse before the man could get to there. “I don’t believe this belongs to you,” he said at a loud enough volume to draw further attention.

The purse’s rightful owner gasped. “That’s mine!”

The man in Saguru’s grasp took one look at Saguru’s cane and went for the obvious weak point. Thankfully, Saguru was expecting him to, so it wasn’t too difficult to shift his weight and use the man’s momentum against him to flip him flat on his back in front of the restrooms. As he wheezed on the ground, Saguru plucked the purse from his hand and tossed it to Kaito to return. “Could someone call the police?” Saguru asked. He jabbed his cane in the man’s face as he made to get up. “The whole café has seen your face, sir. It’s better to just give in to the inevitable.”

For a moment the man’s face contorted in an unpleasant snarl before he realized that half the patrons in the room were crowding around and it really would be nearly impossible to run. He held his hands up in defeat.

“Thank you.”

“Fuck you,” was the muttered reply, but it honestly was mild compared to some of the things criminals verbally hurled at him.

“The police are on their way,” the barista said.

“Well, there’s your crime for the day,” Kaito said, meandering over to lean on Saguru’s shoulder. “Think we’ll be good for a few days?”

“On a scale of shoplifting to grand larceny, this is the small end of the scale.”

“Hmm, true. Probably doesn’t net you much leeway then.”

They really had to figure out if there was some sort of balance to these things or if the universe saved up sometimes before throwing larger crimes Saguru’s way. It would save him a world of headaches if he could figure out how his price worked enough to work with it rather than having it acted upon him. “At least no one was injured this time.” He eyed the man still flat on his back. “Well, not too much.”

The officer that arrived to arrest the purse thief was one Saguru hadn’t worked with often, but she was familiar enough that they recognized each other on sight. Her partner, however, Saguru had never met before. He turned to the officer he knew.

“Officer Rostov,” Saguru said with a nod.

“Saguru Hakuba,” she said in return, neutral. “It’s been a while. You’re back in London then?”

“Just until I can clear out my old flat. I intend to stay in Japan.”

“Huh. Long way away to uproot yourself to, but if it works for you. You caught the suspect?”

“I was having tea with my companion and we noticed this man take that young woman’s purse. My companion distracted the thief and I caught him before he could leave out the front door.” The suspect and woman he’d stolen from and the barista were the only people hanging around the front of the shop; most of the people who’d been there for the theft attempt had moved on. The remaining people gawked like they were stocking up on gossip fodder. Kaito, leaning against the display counter, gave a little wave when Saguru referred to him.

The process of the arrest was quick, as were the statements. Saguru found himself under scrutiny from the unknown officer as Officer Rostov talked with the barista.

“You’re the freelance detective that used to live around here,” the man said, “aren’t you?”

“Yes, though technically I’m not sure if I can be considered a detective still.” He didn’t have a license for it in London anymore, and he was still jumping through hoops to get one in Japan since he wasn’t a citizen anymore.

“I’ve heard about you. Especially when things got shook up half a year ago. Colquhoun is still working with the rest of the British police force in finding rats in the system. He speaks highly of you.” The way it was said wasn’t the tone of a compliment. Saguru took that to mean other people had a lot less complimentary things to say. “You’re not here to cause more trouble?”

“Just passing through.” Saguru didn’t like the intent look on the man’s face. There was something in his stare that bordered aggressive, like he was waiting for Saguru to do something he could react negatively to. It had Saguru moving toward Kaito a few steps before he could even piece together what felt off.

“I lost a partner because of—”

“Burling,” Rostov said, cutting him off as she lifted a note pad in his direction. “It sounds like the suspect had a bike outside. Can you check the type and color? I have a feeling it might match up to some other purse snatchings in the area.”

Burling’s jaw tensed for a moment before he nodded. “I’ll do that.” He took the notebook and shot Saguru one last dark look before moving out the door.

Kaito let out a quiet whistle. “Wow. Someone doesn’t like you.”

_“I lost a partner_ , _”_ Saguru’s brain echoed. He supposed it didn’t matter if Burling’s partner had been crooked or if they’d been lost to injury or death; a loss was a loss. There would be those who hated him for stirring up the status quo even if it was the right thing to do. And there were still others who disliked him because of the fallout with Mel, and neither one was something he could control. “I’m sure there are a lot of people who don’t like me,” Saguru said.

“Not your fault though. You didn’t make people join crime organizations, and you didn’t lead the effort to uproot corruption here.”

“No, I just lifted the curtain enough to reveal all the problems.” People would always blame the messenger.

“Well I’m sure you have friends because of it too. Officer Rostov doesn’t seem to hate you.”

She didn’t seem to like him much either, Saguru didn’t point out, but she had never been one of the officers he was particularly friendly with.

Rostov, done with talking to the barista, wandered back over to them. “I think I have everything I need from you both, so you’re free to go if you’d like,” she said, still as neutral and professional as she’d been from the start.

“Thank you for your time,” Saguru said.

A small smile ticked up the corners of her mouth, the first positive emotion she’d shown so far. “If the guy you caught is who I think he is, you should be the one getting my thanks. I hope Burling didn’t bother you two. He is still learning to be professional sometimes.”

“I don’t take it personally.”

“Good.” She nodded to them. “If you’re in the area for a while, maybe stop by the precinct. Colquhoun would be happy to see you, and a few others.” She glanced at Kaito. “Introduce your friend.”

“We’ll do that,” Saguru said. They did plan to meet up with Millard at some point on this trip after all.

“Don’t get into too much trouble,” Rostov said, giving them a wave as she escorted Burling and the thief out the door.

Kaito sent Saguru a wry smile. “Do you think we should have mentioned that you’re a magnet for trouble these days?”

“Somehow I doubt that would endear me again to the police department,” Saguru returned, equally wry. Their tea was still at their table. Thankfully they’d mostly finished before the incident as it was undoubtedly stone cold by now. “Back to the apartment?”

“If you’re ready,” Kaito said, easily agreeable. The tension around his eyes belied his smile, worry that only Saguru knew to look for. He was right to worry but Saguru would have to go back eventually. There was no point in going to a hotel when he had a flat to return to.

“I’ll manage.” At the very least, there shouldn’t be too many other surprises like the box in Mel’s closet. The rest he could brace himself for.

Kaito bumped Saguru’s shoulder with his own. Saguru caught his hand and curled their fingers together.

“We’ll manage,” he corrected.

He wasn’t alone. If nothing else, he wasn’t alone.

***

It was like catching a glimpse of something through a curtain. Kaito wondered if this was what Saguru had felt back when he first stepped foot into Kaito’s apartment. Kaito wasn’t a detective, but he knew people and even though most of the objects in Saguru’s home were missing, there was more than enough left behind to give a picture of what Saguru’s life here had been like. Busy, full of work and casework and individual passions, but also shared interests. Little intimate overlaps in Saguru’s life and his husband’s seen in such simple things like a shared study and wall hangings or how the remaining books had been mingled subject matters. There were couples that kept their own interests distinct, but that hadn’t been Mel and Saguru. It must have been a healthy relationship and in its own way it felt funny because once Kaito would have said he wouldn’t be able to recognize healthy if it was staring him in the face.

Being here felt like trespassing just a little. They’d stopped to buy boxes and with each one they filled that feeling grew a little more. This was Saguru dismantling what remained of that past. Objectively, it was him moving on, but as someone who had always had trouble letting go of things he cared about no matter how broken, dead or gone they might be, it was hard to watch.

Kaito didn’t say a word though. The last thing Saguru needed was to know that Kaito wasn’t as comfortable here as he was pretending to be.

The English helped. The act of forming sentences and sorting through meaning served as a focus.

It was too quiet during most of the boxing up though. After the disaster in the bedroom, they’d taken the boxes to their piles sorted out in the office and just dealt with that. Manageable, slightly less personal, and held no surprises by that point.

Kaito stretched after putting one more awful teacher-themed mug into a donate box. Saguru was methodically fitting the recipe cards into tiny spaces they’d fit in the single keep box. He’d spent most of Kaito’s boxing up time shredding documents that were no longer relevant with a noisy old paper shredder in the corner. Kaito was just about to suggest calling it a night since it was getting dark out and they should at least get another snack as the tea was a long time ago when there was a knock on the door.

They both froze. “Expecting any visitors?” Kaito half joked.

“No. Perhaps it’s a concerned neighbor?” Saguru struggled to stand up and Kaito offered him a hand, ears straining for hints of sound. Voices, maybe, two of them. No, three, he corrected.

He followed Saguru to the door, for all appearances calm as could be, but familiar tension coiling in him. It had been half a year but there was some part of him that still waited for the other shoe to drop. That paranoid little part of his brain was convinced that it was a trap. It was truly ridiculous because what sort of assassin would knock on the door? That was trauma though; twisting perceptions of reality because sometimes anyone could be an enemy and he couldn’t let himself slip. Kaito plucked at a button on his shirt, fingers close to hidden pockets and smoke pellets he kept there. Old habits died hard.

Saguru was less cautious but that didn’t mean he was careless as he reached the door. He glanced around the barest crack of a gap before pulling the door open, interrupting what looked to be some sort of hushed argument on the doorstep. “Millard,” Saguru said, surprised. “And Jones and McLuhan. What are you doing here?”

“Ha!” one of the women said to the others. “Told you he’d be here! Where the hell else would he be? Hakuba you prat, you didn’t even call to say you’d be in the country. Had to hear it from Rostov as she’s leading in a bloody purse snatcher!”

The man, Millard, rolled his eyes. “What she means is, hullo! Great ta see you, we’ve come bearing gifts.” He held up a plastic bag.

“Is that...ice cream?” Saguru asked, squinting at its contents, blurrily visible through the translucent bag. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here? You didn’t call ahead to check.”

“We’d have had ourselves a bit of a party on the step,” the woman said. “And you’d be out some fuckin’ amazing caramel fudge gelato, mate.” She held up a bundle of metal spoons and disposable bowls.

“Did you steal those from the station?”

“Borrowed. I _borrowed_ them from the station. No one’s going to miss a couple of spoons anyway.”

Despite still being keyed up for disaster, Kaito couldn’t help snorting at that. Three sets of eyes turned his way. He gave a little wave and put on a friendly face. “Your London friends, Saguru?” Kaito asked like he didn’t already know.

Saguru nodded and stepped back to let them in. “Millard Colquhoun, Inez Jones, and Carita McLuhan.” He nodded at each in turn—Millard, who looked like a Scottish stereotype minus a kilt, in his forties with a lot of stress lines in his face, currently counteracted with a smile; Jones a thirty-something woman, dark skinned, hesitant to be here; McLuhan a short, tan woman with a wild pixie cut and a wide smile with a bit too much teeth showing. Kaito filed the names and faces away, fitting them with times Saguru mentioned one or another. “Friends from the London Metropolitan Police, although I didn’t know Jones too well back when I was involved with them. And this is Kaito Kuroba,”—so odd to hear the Western name order—“my friend and boyfriend.”

There was no hesitation in addressing Kaito that way, even if he’d used companion earlier at the café. Kaito hid his surprise. They’d still never really talked about how they’d address their relationship with friends because most of the people who mattered already knew. Kaito didn’t miss the surprise on the Londoners’ faces before they covered it up. He also didn’t miss the flash of concern in Millard’s expression. Saguru, looking at Kaito in that moment, didn’t see it or he’d probably have added something else to that statement, Kaito thought wryly.

“We knew each other in high school for a year or so,” Kaito said, giving context they could build off of. “We weren’t close then, but he ended up my neighbor and, well, we clicked a lot better this time around.”

Saguru shot him a raised-eyebrow look that practically screamed _understatement_ as he ushered guests toward the kitchen.

“Funny how things work out,” Saguru said. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that no one took their shoes off. Kaito didn’t view himself as much of a neat freak, but it irritated him even though it wasn’t like it would harm anything. Not with how dusty the apartment was to begin with. “I was planning to stop by the precinct tomorrow. I came back to go through things before putting the flat back on the market.”

“So you _are_ staying in Japan,” McLuhan said, eyes flicking to Kaito and away. “A hell of a far way to go.”

“But a second home,” Saguru said. The kitchen was a mess with the piles of things they’d pulled from the cupboards. Saguru moved to get tea things on automatic. Kaito pulled chairs from the kitchen table so they’d have a place to sit. “It is also where my parents are so I am closer to family than I was before.”

“But on the other side of the bleedin’ globe!” McLuhan complained. “And you only call for business.”

“Mostly my fault,” Millard said with a chuckle. “We catch up and that means he only needs to call to talk about the case.” There was a pause, a shadow of the still ongoing dismantling of the group that had haunted Kaito’s nightmares and waking moments hanging over all of them. “Which we’ll hopefully get over and done within the next few months.”

“Ugh, don’t talk about the fuckin’ case,” McLuhan said. “I’m seeing profiles in my sleep. Gimme the goods, Colquhoun. It’s gonna melt and that’d be a damn shame.” The ice cream was passed over and dug into and Saguru was clearly debating whether or not to make tea considering they’d be eating something cold, a container of tea in one hand and one of the ceramic mugs from the cupboard in his other hand. McLuhan solved the problem by pulling out several bottles of...Kaito squinted at the exaggerated font. Ginger beer?

Kaito shot Saguru a look and Saguru, seeing the label, said, “It’s not alcoholic.”

“Wasn’t sure if you were still avoiding the bottle,” McLuhan said, gruff and backhanded as she ripped into the package of disposable bowls—seemed silly when they had bowls. Four spoons and bottles and five of them, Kaito noted.

The mugs from the cupboard went on the table, solving one problem. Kaito leaned against the back of a chair, tuning out McLuhan complaining about how Saguru missed both her Christmas party and her party in May. McLuhan, Millard and Saguru had fallen right back into a familiar pattern of interaction, the odd ones out... were Kaito and Jones. Kaito glanced at the woman on his right and found her sneaking looks at him.

“So you knew each other in high school...?” Jones offered.

“Yeah. We butted heads a lot. I was always playing pranks and Saguru was—”

“Oh, you’re that guy!” McLuhan cut in. Kaito hadn’t realized she’d been paying attention. From the way Millard rolled his eyes, she tended to do that sort of thing often, not even finishing her previous thought. “The green hair and glitter bomb guy.”

“I take it Saguru mentioned me.”

Saguru looked embarrassed. “We were exchanging stories and your pranks...”

“My pranks are next level,” Kaito said with a smirk, just the right amount of smug and casual to come off as comfortably teasing. “Not that you ever appreciated their genius back then.”

“They were disruptive and frequently targeting my person,” Saguru said, though he was smiling a little.

“But they sure were fun. Green hair suited you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t a little too fixated on making Aoko and I stressed.”

“You both had the best reactions. Ah, the expression of someone as they charge at you with a mop... Not that you ever swung a mop at me like Aoko. If looks could kill though...”

“You’re lucky you made it past twenty,” Saguru joked, then froze up a bit because it hit a bit too close to reality for a joke.

Kaito grinned and let it roll off him. “I’m always lucky.” True, except for when it wasn’t. The eyes of the others on him were just a bit too analytical. Surrounded by police, Kaito thought ruefully. Somehow he always ended up back in the same position.

A bowl of ice cream was shoved at his face. “Here,” McLuhan said. “Everybody eat before this melts into a puddle of chocolate goo.”

Kaito retrieved an extra spoon with an absentminded flourish. Their eyes followed that too. _Keep smiling_ , he thought.

The ice cream was delicious, chocolatey enough to practically give him a buzz and smooth enough to make his inner child practically weep at how perfect it was. Saguru clearly also liked it; he did like darker chocolate and with the bitter-sweetness of the ice cream and the salted caramel bits it probably fit his preferred sweet profile. McLuhan had good taste. Kaito let them talk and catch up, anything but the case they’d been working on from the sound of it, just happy news and reconnecting over old memories.

Saguru looked Kaito’s way a few times, probably worried at his abnormal silence. It was fine. Kaito wanted to let them talk. Saguru, a year ago, had been sure that his friendships were broken beyond repair, but it was clear that this hadn’t been the case. The past, whatever had happened, was forgiven.

If only Kaito could get his own life to fall back into that kind of easy interaction. He and Aoko were trying, but... They had a long way to go.

Kaito was glad Saguru was happy to see his friends, really, he just also was jet-legged and had had too many emotions happening in a couple hours. He just...needed a minute. “Be right back,” he said, in Japanese. He flashed a smile when Saguru looked concerned and headed into the bathroom.

A splash of cold water on his face and the silence of being behind a closed door helped. “You’re out of practice,” Kaito said to his reflection. He usually was able to push emotions into their compact boxes and get on with life better. Not to mention be social even when he wasn’t feeling it. “They’re going to wonder what the hell Saguru sees in you.” He’d charmed Saguru’s parents and Japanese friends, his British friends couldn’t be that much harder. Kaito’s smile in the mirror turned wry. He always had that part of him that wanted to be liked.

Kaito made his way back, pulling on his friendly expression only to pause, some instinct telling him to wait before he just walked in. Kaito listened to his instincts.

“No, he seems nice!” Millard was saying to Saguru. “It just seems a bit quick, considering.”

“It’s been almost two years.”

“But you started dating him when exactly?” A beat. “No, never mind, it doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just a surprise,” McLuhan said, subdued. “We all saw how bad Mel’s passing tore you up. You went half a year on the edge of reason trying to find who did it and then you just broke, dammit. He makes you happy?”

“Yes,” Saguru said emphatically. Kaito leaned against the wall and tucked the warm feeling that gave him in close.

“Then good. Still a bit annoyed he’s keeping you in Japan, but hell, anywhere’s up from where you were.” McLuhan’s knuckles popped. “And if he hurts you he’ll bloody fuckin’ regret it.”

Kaito steadied himself and made a deliberate sound to let them know he was coming back. The conversation in the next room abruptly turned to Jones’s recent vacation. Kaito sent a grin Saguru’s way when he entered the room, a bit less of a mask than earlier at least, and brought a pack of cards to his hands. He was going to charm the hell out of these people and send them on their way confident that they didn’t need to worry about Saguru’s relationship. The cards bridged between his hands showily. “Anyone like card games?”

***

The door shut behind Saguru’s police friends and Kaito finally could take a moment to breathe. Saguru, for all that he’d been engaged and cheerful for their visit, let out a sigh at Kaito’s side.

“Thank you for being patient,” he said. “I’m jet-lagged and I’m used to world trips; you must be exhausted.”

“It’s not that bad.” Compared to being Kid, a bit of jet lag was barely an inconvenience. But Kaito could admit that he was out of practice, spoiled by a regular sleep pattern after years of doing without. “It’s good that you got to see your friends.”

“I should have expected something like this,” Saguru said, moving to put the mugs they’d used in the sink. “Really, I was intending to visit them at some point tomorrow, but I suppose it’s more personal this way instead of catching them on the job.”

Kaito hummed agreement, watching Saguru’s shoulders shift under his shirt as he scrubbed.

“I think they were a bit worried what they were going to find with me here. Honestly, without you here I’d probably be a mess.”

There was a little strip of skin between Saguru’s hairline and the collar of his shirt that got covered up every time Saguru lifted his shoulders. It was distracting. Kaito let it be distracting because if he was paying attention to it, to how Saguru’s body filled the space, he wasn’t thinking about the ghost that had filled the air between them since the plane set down.

“Well, more of a mess.” There was a self-deprecating chuckle that Kaito wanted to shake away. “So thank you for being here,” Saguru said, so sincere and heartfelt.

There was a twinge of guilt in Kaito’s gut because yes, he was here to support Saguru, but there was a part of him that wanted Saguru to look at him through all of this instead of thinking too hard about the man he’d lost for selfish reasons. Kaito spent a lot of his life measuring up to dead men. It wasn’t a contest or a replacement here, but there was still a measure, and every second with Saguru’s friends had made it apparent, even if Saguru and his family rarely made Kaito feel like he was standing in Mel’s absent shadow.

Saguru turned off the water, flicking it from his hands in an absentminded way that he’d picked up from Kaito in lieu of a dish towel.  Kaito’s breath caught in his chest from that one, tiny motion, one little sign here in all of this that Kaito had left a mark in Saguru’s patterns.

 Saguru turned. “Tomorrow we can take the boxes with donations to the—”

Kaito stole the tail end of his sentence in a kiss. Saguru caught himself on the counter, unresponsive for a moment in surprise before letting Kaito pull him into a passionate kiss. Kaito pressed into it, drawing a tiny sound from Saguru like a victory.

Saguru met that kiss for a moment before cupping Kaito’s cheek in one hand and taking control, slowing it down and turning the passion to something gentler, sweeter.

Kaito couldn’t even be upset when Saguru pulled back, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, before studying Kaito’s expression. It was too gentle and caring to be upset about, or take as rejection.

“Talk to me,” Saguru said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Saguru’s eyes narrowed. “You’re upset. You’ve been uncomfortable since Millard and the others showed up. No, maybe before that. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Kaito tried to keep his smile, but he didn’t really want to hide from Saguru. That was the whole point of what they had between the two of them after all. It didn’t make covering things up any less of a habit though. Kaito slumped forward a bit, leaning a bit more on Saguru. “It’s hard on you being back here and I don’t want to be another problem.”

“You’ve been nothing but supportive,” Saguru said. “But that doesn’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m feeling a little insecure,” Kaito muttered, looking away. “It’s stupid.”

“Is it...because of Mel?” Saguru asked, clearly a little uncomfortable to ask.

“No. Yes, a little,” Kaito said, letting a bit of the self-directed frustration he felt show on his face. “Like I said, stupid. I know in my head just how much you care, and usually my heart gets that too, but being here...”

There was understanding in Saguru’s eyes when Kaito risked a glance. It wasn’t like Kaito’s situation with Aoko, but how did Saguru manage watching the two of them try to figure things out again with that past looming there? Aoko’d never died, but their relationship was as much a lingering ghost of memory in Japan as Hakuba’s husband was here.

“And I might want your friends to like me more than I’d usually care about random people’s opinions of me,” Kaito added.

“You overheard Millard,” Saguru said, a statement not a question.

Kaito shrugged. “I get it. Concerned friend making sure you’re not just diving into something you’re not ready for or being taken advantage of. It’s fine.”

“While I’m glad he cares, it really isn’t any of his business,” Saguru said. “That’s between you and me. And between you and me, I am glad I’m with you. Yes, I loved Mel. Yes, I still feel sad as today clearly demonstrated. But I love you as well and what we have is entirely separate from what I had with Mel and always will be. Just like how you feel toward Aoko,” Saguru said, echoing the parallel of Kaito’s thoughts. “I look at you and I will forever and always only see Kuroba Kaito, magician, thief, and keeper of obscure knowledge.”

Kaito surprised himself by laughing and Saguru smiled back. “I love you too, Saguru.” He leaned in and kissed him again, heart lighter.

Saguru pulled away before it could get any further than chaste. Kaito raised an eyebrow at him. Saguru’s cheeks went pink. “I love you, but we are not doing anything more than kissing in this apartment.”

“Nothing?” Kaito asked, thinking of that brief moment where Saguru matched the passion in his kiss.

“Nothing,” Saguru said firmly. “My emotions are all over as it is; I have too many memories here to add to them in that way.”

“...So does that mean nothing more than kissing the whole time we’re in London?” Kaito asked, feeling a bit disappointed. Sure, London wasn’t the romantic getaway city like Paris, but he was in a foreign country, alone with his lover for the rest of the week, no child to possibly interrupt them...

“Not in the apartment,” Saguru said.

That wording... “Does that mean out of the apartment is okay?” Kaito asked, a grin spreading across his face slowly. “Why Saguru, how daring. Were you thinking of a bathroom tryst? Do you have a kink for the danger of being exposed?”

Saguru went bright red. “Kuroba! No, I was not thinking about...about _that_! If either of us has an exhibitionist streak, it would definitively be you!”

“You got me,” Kaito sighed, playing it a bit dramatic because it was fun. “We both know I like to flirt with danger. Although I’d totally be up for a tryst if you were interested—”

“Stop.”

“Toilets are kind of cramped here, aren’t they? We could find one that’s meant for one, lock the door—”

Saguru’s hand covered Kaito’s mouth before he could get any further in that little fantasy scenario. The blush had spread to Saguru’s ears. It was cute, a reason that Kaito enjoyed riling him up. The interest buried under that embarrassment made it worth it too. “No borderline public sex. Or public,” Saguru added like he could read Kaito’s thoughts before Kaito even finished having them. “...We are getting a hotel the last day here when I turn over my apartment keys.”

Kaito grinned wider under Saguru’s palm. Then he licked it, snickering at how Saguru’s face twisted in disgust.

“I guess that will have to do,” he said, leaning all his weight on Saguru for a second, taking advantage of how close they were to give a tiny taste of intimacy. Platonic or sexual, at least Kaito didn’t have to worry that Saguru didn’t want that intimacy with him. It was gratifying hearing the tiny, unsteady breath Saguru took when Kaito pulled away. “Until then, I guess I’ll just have to make do.”

“What is that supposed to—”

“I’m going to take a shower and sleep,” Kaito continued, heading to fetch a towel from the linen closet. “We are using the bed, correct?”

“...Yes.” Saguru grimaced. Ah, more complicated emotions. Lovely.

“You could always join me in the shower,” Kaito said with a wink.

“You’re incorrigible,” Saguru complained.

He was smiling though. Win for Kaito.

“Kaito,” Saguru called before Kaito could get to the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

Saguru still leaned against the kitchen counter, something between fondness and concern on his face. “I love you.”

Kato smiled, true and relaxed. “I know. Love you too.” He let the smile tick up to a grin. “Offer’s still open~!”

“I’ll make the bed,” Saguru said with a roll of his eyes.

Everything would be fine.

***

It took about two days to properly go through everything and either donate or dispose of what Saguru wasn’t keeping. Saguru put the furniture up in an ad for a low price, and already had the couch, table and chairs, and two of the bookcases gone.  There hadn’t been any more emotional breakdowns from either of them and Saguru was cautiously optimistic about how the rest of this trip would go. They’d made a short trip to the police station yesterday and they were planning on dinner with Saguru’s maternal aunt and cousin that evening.

With any luck, they’d get rid of the rest of the furniture and could turn over the keys by the end of the week with no extraneous items for the landlord to deal with. That just left mailing the items Saguru was keeping and taking the rest of the mess to donate. It would take a few trips, but it was wonderful to be through with the worst of it.

“So,” Kaito said sifting through his luggage, “how nice should I dress to meet your family?”

“You don’t have to dress up.” While it was nice that Kaito cared, Saguru had hoped he would be more comfortable meeting his family.

Kaito looked down at the old t-shirt and worn jeans he currently had on. “I don’t think what I have on will go over well. If your family is anything like you, I’ll be way underdressed.”

“Just put on something clean and respectable. You don’t have to wear a suit.”

“You’re putting on slacks and a dress shirt.”

“I _wear_ slacks and a dress shirt on the regular.” The old and casual clothing he’d worn the past few days had been for cleaning and dealing with potentially unknown messes and objects while they sorted through things. “Just be yourself. They’re not stuck up. That’s my other aunt and uncle. Henrietta’s lovely, and so is Jean.”

“Remind me, how big is your mother’s family?”

“She’s the youngest of three, one older sister and a brother. Uncle Gregory is married with two children—we don’t talk much to Uncle Gregory.” Saguru fixed his cuffs while Kaito pulled out a shirt and slacks folded into what seemed to be impossibly small bundles. “Everything is cut-throat and backhanded around him and his wife and he’s a bit of a racist to boot. My cousins aren’t too bad, but sometimes they fall back on unfortunate behavior patterns they learned from their parents. Aunt Henrietta was married and divorced—a minor family scandal—and just has Jean. Jean’s married, but her husband travels.”

“Okay, so that makes three cousins, two aunts and an uncle. Your grandparents have passed on?”

“A few years back, yes. Well. Grandmum a few years ago. Grandfather passed closer to eight years now.” He would always have mixed feelings about his grandfather. His grandmother though, he did miss her. “Anyway, Aunt Henrietta and Jean aren’t anyone you need to worry about.”

“Good to know.” Kaito shook out his clothes and pulled out something that fit into the palm of his hand with a cord...

“Is that a tiny iron?”

“It’s useful,” Kaito said. “And takes up very little space. I’m surprised you don’t have one.”

“Most places have one you can borrow if you need it these days. Why do you have a tiny iron?”

Kaito held up his shirt which had dozens of square creases from being folded very tiny. “While I can fit just about anything I could possibly need by packing tight, it leaves a bit of a mess in presentation.”

“What on earth did you pack?” Saguru asked. He hadn’t paid much attention to Kaito’s luggage before since he’d only brought it out to dress when Saguru was coming or going from the bathroom, but it had dozens of tightly folded and packed clothing, all in neat segments with each type in its own place. It was far more organized than Saguru was expecting, more organized than Saguru’s own bag. It was also far more clothing than Kaito could possibly need for a week trip.

“I wasn’t sure what I’d need so I brought whatever I thought might be useful.”

“Is that a dress?” Saguru’s eyes caught on a floral print bundle he could swear he remembered seeing in Kaito’s closet once.

“Old habits die hard, ‘Kuba. What if I need to wear a dress?”

Meaning a disguise. Probably. And now Saguru had a picture of Kaito wearing said dress as himself in his head. Lovely. Not the time. “I should hope there isn’t any pressing reason to need a dress anytime soon, though if you ever feel like it for the hell of it, go right ahead.”

“Is that interest I hear?” Kaito teased, ironing his clothing right there on the bedspread with his impossibly tiny iron.

“Ask me when we’re in Japan again and find out.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I live to be a killjoy.”

Kaito laughed. “So your dad’s side of the family?” He moved on to ironing his slacks. Saguru finished straightening his own clothing to his preferred level of neatness.

“My grandfather had an older sister, and she had a son, who had a son and a daughter, and who I view as cousins. My grandfather technically adopted my one cousin back into the Hakuba name as heir to Hakuba laboratories. He was a researcher for a few years until Ojiisama passed on and he took over running the facility...” Saguru was almost ten years younger than his cousin though, so they’d never been close. “I have a more or less formal relationship with my cousin. Hirakichi-san is married, and I think he has a child in elementary school, but I am afraid I didn’t keep up with him since I was living in London for most of the last two decades. Most of the memories I have of him are from when I was younger and he was always a bit imposing. But I suppose most relatives would be when you’re a decade apart in age.” His sister, Rin, was less intimidating, but they’d both been serious people raised in a strict household with high expectations held in them. If Hakuba hadn’t grown up in London with Mum giving him significant free reign to pursue his interests, he could have ended up the same way. Many people would have said he was intimidating back then though so perhaps it had been a matter of perspective all along.

“I doubt you’ll be meeting them anytime in the near future,” Saguru continued. “We aren’t close.”

“Good to know though. It gives me a better picture of your life.” Kaito finished ironing his clothes and had them on in the blink of an eye. Saguru was a bit envious at how Kaito could manage to get everything to fit correctly in that amount of time.

“Do you have relatives I don’t know about?” Saguru asked because it was something he’d never considered beyond Kaito’s mother.

“All my grandparents died, and my parents were only children. Dunno about further back than that really—Kaa-san’s mother was French though.”

“Really? I thought she was more than half Japanese.”

“She inherited more of her dad’s looks. Genetics,” Kaito said with a shrug.

Which meant Kaito was a quarter French, which was baffling in a different way because genetically speaking, he was much closer to Saguru’s situation than expected, but culturally, he’d never been seen as anything but Japanese. Something to think about when they weren’t on their way out the door though. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Hmm,” Kaito said flicking his hands and making items appear and vanish off his person. “Wallet, passport, spare apartment key, phone, cards, emergency second phone, smoke pellets—”

“I’ll take that as yes, you have everything.”

“That’s only half the list.”

“When did you even manage to fill your pockets?”

Kaito gave him an innocent, wide eyed look that no one who had known him more than ten minutes would actually believe.

“Never mind, let’s go.” As always, it was better not to think too hard about where Kaito managed to hide half of the things he tended to carry. There were only so many places to hide extra pockets on the human body and Saguru didn’t need to start running a mental list when he was going to see relatives.

***

“Guru!” Jean said, pulling Saguru into a crushing hug the moment she opened the door. “It’s been ages!” Saguru patted her back as his aunt leaned in the doorway. To his right, Saguru could practically feel the suppressed laughter vibrating off Kaito.

“Jean, it’s good to see you.” His cousin had cut her hair since he last saw her, wavy brown hair a bit above her shoulders instead of down her back. She looked happy and healthy. “Aunt Henrietta,” Saguru said, giving her a hug as well. “You look well.”

She did, solid and warm. She was stockier than Mum and Saguru, round where Mum had inherited a more delicate structure, but it suited her. As a child, Saguru thought she had a face made for smiles with how her round cheeks had dimples and her eyes would turn into crescents. Both dimples were showing at the moment as she smiled widely.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she said. “I was starting to wonder if I should plan my next vacation to Japan. I think I might still. Can you believe your mother hasn’t visited since she came to help you move?”

“I have the impression that she and Father are rediscovering some of their old passions lately. They’ve been on trips often the last few months. If I remember correctly they went to relive some of their honeymoon stops.” He was glad his parents were still in love, but it was a bit baffling why they seemed to be rediscovering it now. He’d have expected this more when Mum retired and moved to Japan, not four years later.

“Well she should take a few of those trips out this way. Goodness knows they did some of their courting out here.”

“I’ll pass that along.” He stepped back and set a hand on Kaito’s shoulder. “Jean, Henrietta, this is Kaito Kuroba, my boyfriend. Kaito, this is my cousin and aunt.”

Kaito had a perfect charming smile on his face, accepting getting pulled into a hug by Jean with good humor. He was probably expecting it with how Mum was a hugger.

“Aunt Elaine’s told us all about you,” Jean said. “Which we should have been hearing from Guru, but he’s barely called.”

“I called you,” Saguru protested.

“Yes, and you talked about work, not a bit about how your life was going or how you’d started dating again. I had to hear it all second hand.”

Kaito was pulled into a gentler hug by Aunt Henrietta, and it was probably only Saguru who could tell he was a little uncomfortable with all the touching.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Kaito said, his English copying Saguru’s accent as close as he could get it. “It’s a pleasure to meet more of Saguru’s family.”

“He’s even polite,” Henrietta said, eyes crinkling with good humor. That was in reference to how Mel had tripped and fell when Saguru went to introduce him the first time and their first impression had been of him swearing in panic, then in mortification. He was fortunate his aunt had a good sense of humor.

“Oh, he’s polite for the moment,” Saguru said.

“Saguru, I’m always a gentleman,” Kaito said.

“Of course you are. Except eighty percent of the time when you aren’t.”

“Maybe I’m just not a gentleman to you?”

Jean laughed. “Come in, come in, we shouldn’t keep standing on the front step.”

“Guru?” Kaito teased, under his breath as he leaned in close to Saguru’s side.

“That’s a nickname only Jean is allowed to use and if you use it, I’m going back to calling you Kuroba.” It wasn’t much of a threat and the sparkle in Kaito’s eye said he would use this new knowledge at some point. Saguru resigned himself for potential future embarrassment without much actual resignation.

“Don’t worry about your shoes,” Henrietta said when Kaito bent on reflex to take them off. “It’s perfectly acceptable to leave them on and we’re not staying in long anyway.”

“We’re eating out?” Saguru asked, surprised. He’d assumed they were eating in with the invitation.

“Our treat,” Jean said. She glanced at her phone as she led them to the lounge. “I’m waiting on a message from Donny. He got back in the country today and he wasn’t sure if he’d be free in time for our reservations.” With a quick smile in Kaito’s direction, she added, “Donny’s my husband. Gordon.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait?” Saguru suggested.

Jean just waved a hand. “If he doesn’t make dinner, we can always stop back here after to talk. I’m sure he’ll be in before bed. I thought he wasn’t going to be back for a few days, but business finished early. He’s probably going to be exhausted though.”

“As someone still a bit jet lagged, I sympathize,” Kaito said, earning a smile from her.

“I think he’s always a little jet lagged, to be honest,” Jean said. “He showed up to our wedding half an hour late because he still had his watch set to another time zone.”

“And he’d forgotten to charge his cell phone so no one could even get in touch,” Saguru remembered. “You were close to having me call the police and stage a manhunt.”

“Well he wasn’t going to leave me at the altar. I didn’t think he had cold feet, but if he’d had them he’d have gotten a talking to. Thankfully that sorted itself out.”

“At least your in-laws didn’t try to talk your husband out of marrying you right before the ceremony.”

“Seriously?” Kaito said.

“I did say we didn’t get along,” Saguru said. “Mel’s grandmother ended up pulling his mother away and talking her down from trying to stop the ceremony. It was a bit of a mess.”

“Never could have noticed once it got started though,” Jean said.

“They do like their public faces.”

“Huh. The most exciting thing at my wedding was Nakamori-keibu crying and getting horribly drunk,” Kaito said. “Meanwhile Aoko and I were both sober and there were maybe ten other guests and it was a bit rushed and awkward even if we were really happy at the time. I’m divorced,” he added for Jean and Henrietta’s benefit.

“So am I,” Henrietta said. “There’s no judgment here, dear.”

They sat on comfortable couches in a room that looked like it came out of a designer’s portfolio—and likely was in some designer’s interior decorating portfolio. Henrietta liked having up to date décor though the private areas of the home were a less picture perfect. Kaito looked perfectly at ease, but Saguru was willing to bet he was at least a bit uncomfortable. Kaito’s mother’s house was well decorated, but unlike this, it was an unchanging finery—like a museum, or like time had stopped, no time or interest in decorating once she started traveling. Kaito’s own tastes were eclectic and full of little cluttered signs of his life and personality everywhere; picture-perfect lounges weren’t part of his daily life.

“Now, Saguru. You’re back to teaching I hear?” Henrietta said, initiating conversation as Jean tapped at her phone.

“Yes, actually back to teaching Chemistry once the semester starts up. I was teaching English for a while, but the teacher who was on maternity leave returned and so I ended up applying for a different job.”

“And you met Kaito here because of one of your students...” There was a bit of humor in his aunt’s eyes. Between having tutored Mel before they were dating and now dating the father of a student, Saguru supposed she would find humor in how awkward a situation that could be.

“Actually we knew each other in high school,” Kaito cut in. “And he’s not Takumi’s teacher at the moment.”

“But I was when I started dating you,” Saguru grumbled. “Yes, before you say anything that wasn’t exactly something that the board would have been happy with. Somehow that never reached them despite how widespread the rumor mill is.”

Jean glanced up from her phone. “High school. As in that boy you all but stalked? The one you kept notes on in your case diary along with the thief you were chasing? That guy?”

Saguru flushed and Kaito started laughing silently, struggling to conceal a grin.

“Ah, yes, Elaine did mention something about that,” Henrietta said, looking even more amused.

“Is that how all your family remembers me?” Kaito asked.

“No.”

“You turned his hair green!” Jean said suddenly, pointing at Kaito. “That was you, right? He hadn’t got all the dye out when he was visiting and it took ages to get the story out of him.”

“One, I had a case _book_ , not a diary, and two,” Saguru lost his train of thought as Kaito started laughing against his shoulder.

When Kaito sat up again he was genuinely relaxed. “Wow. I hadn’t realized it took that long to wash out.”

“You dyed it before a school break.”

“So I didn’t get to see how long the result lasted. For the record, I no longer dye people’s hair without warning.”

“And yet so many other habits are still there.”

“Hush,” Kaito said, patting him like he was placating a dog.

Jean’s phone trilled. “Oh, that’s Donny.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, scrolling through the message. “He says he can meet us at the restaurant, but he’s going to be a bit late—better than not at all I guess.”

“And that means we don’t need to wait for him here,” Henrietta said with a sigh. “Well, I guess we can continue catching up at the restaurant.”

“Are we dressed nice enough?” Kaito hissed in Saguru’s ear, lips not moving, for all appearances just taking a moment to lean on Saguru’s shoulder.

“We’re fine. They’re not dressed for somewhere fancy,” Saguru murmured under the guise of helping Kaito to his feet. Both his relatives were sharp dressers, but between Jean’s slacks and Henrietta’s comfortable sleeveless summer dress, they were in their version of casual wear. They’d likely be going somewhere nicer than Saguru normally frequented, but nowhere that required a dress code.

“I am so glad I decided on the button down shirt and slacks,” Kaito said through a relaxed-looking smile. “Bet you something goes wrong.”

“I’m not taking that bet.” They both knew that if something didn’t go wrong tonight, that probably meant something really big happening before the week was out. “Help me make sure they’ll be okay if something does happen?”

“Of course.”

“What are you whispering about?” Jean asked.

They’d dropped into Japanese without meaning to again. “Ah, just assuring Kaito that no matter where we end up, there will be something that isn’t sea food.”

“Not a fan?” Jean asked.

“Not a fan of fish,” Kaito said, managing to keep a straight face at the thought of his phobia.

“We’re getting Indian, so you should be able to find something.”

“Not going to take me somewhere with traditional fare?” Kaito joked.

Jean patted his arm. “Enjoying good Indian food is part of the British experience. And I know Guru likes curry.”

“I’ll admit, Indian food isn’t something I’ve had much of. Is the curry anything like Japanese curry?”

“Very different,” Saguru said. “Japanese curry isn’t as spicy and has a simpler savory taste. Indian curry builds off a variety of spices and a broader range of protein and vegetable combinations than the average Japanese curry. And more bread and less rice.”

“Huh.”

“It’s an adventure then,” Jean said, grinning.

Henrietta brought around a car and they piled in.

Saguru supposed that at least they would be having an interesting night out regardless of his karma.

***

The restaurant was very different from the place Saguru frequented with Mel over the years, dim lighting and mirrors instead of wide windows, and plush sand-colored chairs and booths instead of pale wooden chairs, but the scent of curry and spices was familiar and the dimmer lighting made the atmosphere more intimate than it otherwise would have been. There were only two tables with patrons at the moment, one toward the front door, the other close to the kitchen doors in the back. On the ride over, Saguru had been filled in on what had changed in his relatives’ lives over the last year or so, and some of the latest gossip on his uncle’s family. Apparently one of his cousins had gotten engaged to someone the family didn’t approve of and there was an ongoing argument that Henrietta kept getting pulled into whether she wanted to be or not. Saguru wished his cousin and her fiancé luck. Considering how Uncle Gregory never really warmed up to Saguru’s father though, it wasn’t likely that this would blow over.

“Well,” Kaito said when they were seated at a table in the far corner of the room, “so far it smells great so that’s off to a good start.”

“How are you with spice?” Henrietta asked, opening her menu.

Kaito wavered a hand in the air. “I can tolerate spice, but not too much. I like to taste my food, not get burned by it.”

“Burn is another flavor profile,” Jean said cheerfully. She would happily eat things that would make Saguru’s tongue burn for hours.

“Try the butter chicken, it’s not spicy,” Saguru suggested.

“What are you getting?”

“Lamb Roganjosh.”

“You’re eating baby sheep?” Kaito said, looking exaggeratedly sad. “How could you?” He squinted at the menu. “Yeah, I’m going to go with your suggestion, Saguru, I don’t know what half of this says. I know conversational English, but some of these words I’ve never seen before.”

“Well some of them aren’t English, so that covers some of what you don’t know.”

“Well that’s entirely not helpful.”

Saguru smiled. “Point something out if you want to know more or just ask when the waiter comes.”

“How about you teach me, I like to learn.” He said it with a smile that made Saguru pause and wonder if it was a serious request or an innuendo, which considering the company, Saguru would hope it wasn’t currently an innuendo. With Kaito it very well could be the case.

He was saved from answering that by the waiter, arriving to collect drink orders.

“Mango lassi all around,” Jean said, “and an order of mix pakora and a bread basket! Might as well take our time since Donny will be late.”

Kaito looked at Saguru. “You’ll like the lassi, it’s sweet,” Saguru said. “The rest is flatbreads and fried finger food; probably not very spicy but filling. Jean, we’re not going to want our meal if we fill up on all this.”

“The joy of leftovers is that you don’t have to cook for a day,” Jean said.

“We might not have a refrigerator by tomorrow.”

“Leftovers make a decent breakfast?” she said, smiling.

“Well, it allows for a full experience...”

“I have had Indian food before,” Kaito said, “it’s just been a long time and everything was written in katakana, so it doesn’t exactly translate to knowing the word in English lettering.”

“So you have an idea about what you’re getting,” Jean said. “Now, so long as we’re on the topic of spicy things...” She grinned at Saguru.

Kaito, clearly sensing an embarrassing story, leaned forward. “Oh?”

“Did Saguru ever tell you about the time with the peppers?”

“No, do tell.”

Jean’s grin had teeth.

“Must you?” Saguru sighed.

Both his cousin and boyfriend ignored him entirely. “So,” Jean said, “back when we were kids Aunt Elaine had this whim to do a vegetable garden. And she doesn’t do things by halves so she got a whole bunch of plants and put in raised beds and everything in the back yard and put in pretty much anything you can think of. There were so many plants. Anyway, Guru and I got a kick out of seeing them grow and picking the ripe things. We were what? Eight or nine?”

“You were seven, I was eight, almost nine,” Saguru said, resigned to let the story unfold.

“Right. Kids. So Aunt Elaine had more produce coming out of that garden than she knew what to do with, but her peppers were all a bit behind everything else—peppers can be slow I guess? And Guru and I kept watching and waiting for them to be ready. Only we got impatient and decided to snitch one. Just one to share between the two of us.”

“Oh no,” Kaito said, clearly seeing where this was going.

“Yes,” Jean said, telling the story with relish. “I chose the pepper—and mind you Aunt Elaine didn’t label the plants, just shunted like plants off in the beds—took a big bite, and handed it to Guru. Who also took a big bite. From the top. Now I realized my mistake about a half second after I handed the pepper over, but by then it was too late. My mouth was burning and Saguru took a bite and then _both_ our mouths were burning. And this was when we had no spice tolerance to speak of, so we were both standing there with mouthfuls of hot pepper and burning mouth, caught completely off guard.”

“Oh no,” Kaito repeated, grin matching Jean’s. “You must have been upset.”

“That’s an understatement. We both spit the pepper out and ran to the house because Saguru remembered something about milk and bread making things less spicy. Only by that point we were crying and Guru had the worst of it since he ate from the top.” Jean wiped a mock-tear from her eye. “Our mouths were burning for hours and Aunt Elaine told us we should have just asked.”

“To be honest, we’re lucky we didn’t get anything in our eyes,” Saguru said.

“True.”

“They were over it by the end of the summer and entirely willing to try the spicy food Elaine made,” Henrietta cut in.

Kaito laughed. “You should hear about the time I first had mapo tofu—”

Toward the back of the restroom, a woman screamed. Saguru turned. One of the two women from the table near the kitchen stared in horror through the bathroom door. Saguru’s mood sunk like a lead weight. Just past the door, in the thin strip of tile floor he could see from this angle, was a woman’s hand, pale against dark green tiles.

Saguru, Kaito and Jean stood up at the same time.

“I’m a doctor!” Jean said, making her way to the bathroom. “And he’s a detective,” she added with a thumb in Saguru’s direction. “Everyone stay calm.”

Of course something would happen; he was overdue. Kaito and Saguru exchanged a look and got to work.

***

The woman in the bathroom was still alive—Saguru’s luck wasn’t Kudo’s level of bad yet thank goodness—but she had a concussion and had had her research stolen. Research that by all logic should have been safely in her lab instead of on her person, and definitely should have had more than one copy of it. Between the suspicious gap of people using the restroom outside of the woman’s group—with the exception of one woman from another party who had left the restaurant almost half an hour before Saguru’s group got there—and the abnormal lack of backing up important files, their handling aside, there was something fishy going on. Why would anyone take the research, research on the effect of a certain species of plant extracts on the metabolism at that? How would they have known she had it on her? And, if the rest of the woman’s party was to be believed, why would they steal research that hadn’t had breakthroughs in months and had had its funding cut to the point where the woman, Amelia, had been working on it out of her own home after hours in hopes of finding something she’d missed?

Nothing added up for a theft case, but it did point to potentially a fraud case—unless there was something else at play. Kaito had chatted up the members of Amelia’s party as Saguru and Jean took care of Amelia and examined the surroundings. He’d found grudges in some of her coworkers and a worry that her failing research would lead to funding cuts for the rest of them. Saguru had found minimal signs of a struggle.

He’d handed most of the case over to the police since he didn’t actually have his detective license in London anymore, but the questions ticked over in his brain as he watched paramedics carry Amelia out and police officers photograph the restaurant bathroom.

“There’s something that doesn’t quite add up,” Saguru murmured to himself.

“Besides how weird the timing is?” Kaito said at his side. “It sounds like one of the women in the group and the man both used the restroom at some point after Amelia went in there, but neither one says they noticed anything.”

“And none of the staff used it in the interim. That leaves either one of them lying or the person who left earlier.”

“Which isn’t likely based on when they used the bathroom,” Kaito said. He looked at Saguru, one brow raised. “They both have the motive. The woman was working with Amelia on her project, and the man was convinced budget cuts were coming to him next because her research was failing.”

“And the angle of the head wound...”

“Leaves only her female partner,” Kaito finished. “Did you check the bathroom trash?”

“No, but I’ll go do that. Do you think she would keep evidence on her?”

“It’s possible. What about the weapon?”

“...The doorstop,” Saguru said. “It wasn’t in use, but there was a stone doorstop in the shape of an elephant.”

“Yeah, that could cause blunt force trauma.” Kaito clapped him on the shoulder. “You check the trash and talk to investigators, I’ll point the officer in charge in the right direction to check the woman’s pockets.”

Saguru glanced at the investigator who he was acquaintances with. “If he gives you problems, use my name.”

“Got it.” Kaito grinned and Saguru was glad he was here. It was so much simpler working with someone that had his back.

He hurried back over to the officers documenting the crime scene. “There’s reason to believe the research might be somewhere in the room.”

An officer who knew him from his detective days tossed Saguru a pair of gloves. “You know procedure.”

“Thank you.”

The elephant doorstop was already being noted as evidence, so Saguru took his search to the rubbish bin. There were plenty of wadded paper towels, but no memory stick. Nothing in the stall rubbish either, but in the second stall in the water reservoir to the toilet he found what he was looking for; one memory stick carefully sealed in two separate plastic bags, submerged under the tank float. Saguru brought it to the officers.

“I think it’s safe to say this isn’t an ordinary mugging,” he said to them.

“No shit,” one officer said, shaking his head. “Who hides something electronic in a toilet tank?”

Someone desperate to keep suspicion off them. The plastic bags showed forethought though. This was definitely planned. “We should go ask the woman who did it,” Saguru said.

“Already have it figured out?”

“The exact motive, no, but there are a few too many coincidences.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Saguru returned to the main room to find their suspect getting a pat-down with a very uncomfortable expression on her face. Kaito and Jean stood a few meters away while Henrietta sat in a chair looking out of her depth. Jean still wore her crisis-response calm. “It was in a toilet tank,” Saguru said coming up to them.

“Hmm, then this is completely unnecessary,” Kaito said with a nod toward the suspect.

“I have to wonder how she intended to get the thing back. Return days later?” Saguru shook his head. Their suspect’s discomfort was edging toward anxiety; though the other members of their party were having similar pat-downs to cover up that she was the main suspect, she had a guilty conscience. She was the sort who would confess with a bit of pressure and Saguru intended to hand that last bit of leverage to the officer in charge.

“Maybe she didn’t think that far ahead,” Kaito offered. “Or maybe this was really badly planned all around.”

Saguru suspected the latter. “I’ll just be a moment.”

The officer in charge was listening to one of the officers who had been investigating the crime scene, but he gave Saguru his attention as he approached. “So the missing research hadn’t even left the building,” he said.

“The files would have to be checked to be sure, but it is rather suspicious to have a memory stick in a toilet conveniently when one was missing.”

The man snorted. “With how things have been of late, it’d be my luck if we found a smuggling drop instead. But thank you for finding it. You must have worse luck than my team though; this is your second crime scene this week if I remember right.”

“I have a poor track record of stumbling into things lately,” Saguru said. “The one who committed the assault here was clearly Amelia’s research partner,” he said watching her turn out her pockets. “Between the angle of the attack and the timing, she’s the only one who could have. She would have known Amelia had the research with her and have been able to surprise Amelia.” But. “Although I don’t think it was a surprise attack.”

“Your theory is that the victim’s in on it?” the officer said. He sounded surprised, but he didn’t seem disbelieving.

“There wasn’t a struggle. Amelia had the _only copy_ of her research on her which is fairly ridiculous as a researcher would know to have backup of their work. It’s common sense because if a computer fails or something else goes wrong, you have to have some sort of failsafe or else months of work would be lost. It’s almost as if...”

“She wanted it to be lost or destroyed,” the officer finished, his mouth a grim line. “They did say the research hadn’t had results in months, didn’t they?”

“I’m not sure if she hoped to get an out to her situation by scrapping her project in a way she seemed less responsible for, or if there was some other goal here, but either way there is enough evidence to take her partner in.”

“There is,” the man said. “And I’ll get to the bottom of it.” He held out a hand for Saguru to shake. “James Yule, by the way. Already know you; you have a bit of a reputation.”

Saguru snorted, shaking his hand. “Of course I do. Best of luck with the rest of the investigation.”

“Not tempted to see it to the end?” Yule joked.

“Believe me I am,” Saguru said, watching an officer lead the suspect a bit away from the others to read her rights. They’d found something in their search of her person, though what, Saguru had missed it. “But I am pushing the legality of helping here as it is.”

“Best of luck to you then, Hakuba.”

“And to you.” Saguru returned to Kaito’s side as the suspect was escorted out.

“That was anticlimactic,” Kaito said. “Did you figure the motive?”

“Not really, though it’s probably an attempt at scrapping the project.” There was a tiny part of him that wondered if there had been a breakthrough after all, something that made the project worth stealing, but nothing pointed to that. It was a failing project with cut funding, a cloud hanging over both researchers that they hadn’t been able to fix, nor had they been able to just call off. Making it seemingly disappear was an understandable desire. With the research gone, the people funding them would have called it a loss and canceled it, probably in favor of some other more lucrative seeming project. Maybe a project that could have put Amelia back into a better standing in the research community.

“Are you okay?” Kaito asked too quiet for Saguru’s relatives to hear. “It’s stolen science research...”

And a similar situation to the case he’d investigated when Mel died. But unlike that case, this was a very sloppy job. It wasn’t so similar that it had him on edge. It was nice of Kaito to notice though. “I’m fine. I highly doubt this is anything darker than two people feeling trapped by a bit of bad luck.” He would privately admit that part of the reason he wanted to hand the case over stemmed from the similarity though.

“Good.” Kaito squeezed his hand before turning to Saguru’s family. “So, that sure was a way to start the evening.”

Jean laughed drily. “Yeah, nothing like finding someone with surprise head trauma in a bathroom. At least it doesn’t look like she’ll have lasting damage. It was a minor concussion from what I could tell.”

“I’m so sorry this had to happen when we were taking you to dinner,” Henrietta said, still a bit pale.

Saguru and Kaito glanced at each other—it was more Saguru’s fault than anyone’s with his luck pulling at the universe around them, but it wasn’t like he could explain that. “At least everyone will be alright,” he said neutrally.

“Do you think we could get our food boxed up to go?” Jean wondered. “At this point it’s a bit of a question whether we should even stay.”

“Nothing is wrong with the restaurant itself,” Saguru said.

“True.”

Of course it was then that her husband finally showed up. Gordon was wide eyed as he wandered over, pushing past the last officers as they left. “What on earth happened? Did someone hold up the restaurant?” he asked.

“Nah, just an assault in the ladies room,” Jean said with fake nonchalance.

“The hell?” Gordon glanced back at where the police had been. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oh, we’re fine, Donny,” Jean said. “The lady was hit in the head but she’ll be fine. You have terrible timing, darling.”

“You don’t say,” Gordon said, shaken. “I always have run late.” He hugged Jean on automatic, looking her over before looking at the rest of their group. “Oh. Hello, Saguru, it’s been a bit, yeah?”

Saguru smiled at his cousin’s husband. “Gordon. It’s good to see you.”

“Pity about the...” He waved a hand. “I was expecting to show up for dessert, not a crime scene. This is a bit more your speed though.”

Saguru snorted. “Unfortunately. Gordon, this is my boyfriend, Kaito Kuroba.”

Kaito gave a little wave. “Hi! How was the flight?”

“Long,” Gordon said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Guru, I’m going to see if I can get our food to go,” Jean said, patting Saguru on the arm. “I hope you don’t mind a bit more of a wait.”

“We’ll live,” Saguru said with good humor.

“So,” Kaito said as she wandered over to the woman at the register who had yet to stop looking alarmed since Amelia had been found unconscious. “How do you guys feel about card tricks?”

“I... Neutral?” Gordon said, bemused.

Kaito grinned. “I promise that by the time our food comes you’ll have a stronger opinion.”

Saguru laughed, sitting next to Henrietta as Kaito started in on an impromptu performance.

“I think I like him,” Henrietta whispered.

“I like him quite a bit,” Saguru said, not hiding his enamored smile in the slightest. His aunt patted his arm.

Kaito sent Saguru a wink and pulled them all into his performance.

***

The next morning found Saguru and Kaito sitting on the bed eating leftover curry for breakfast as Saguru went through his emails on his phone. “There’s one from work,” Saguru said to Kaito, who of course couldn’t eat normally, but was sprawled half off the bed doing what could be considered upper body exercises between bites of curry where it sat on a box on the floor. “It sounds like Kate is trying to get together a group of faculty to go to the beach in the name of work bonding.”

“Over summer break?” Kaito asked. He did a push up to take another bite of food. “Sounds a little optimistic to expect people to want to be around coworkers for the longest stretch they have an option of not being around them.”

“She does seem to like everyone getting along as much as possible.” Saguru eyed Kaito. “How are you able to eat like that and not get indigestion? Or fall off the bed?”

“Practice,” Kaito said with a sparkling grin. “So are you going to go?”

“She’s suggesting the second weekend in July, and if that’s the case, I was hoping to see if I could visit London again around then. If it gets moved to a later date, I’ll consider, but I don’t ordinarily enjoy beaches.”

“You showed me a picture of you and Mel on a beach just the other day,” Kaito pointed out.

“That was carefully planned with my disability in mind, not a trip with a dozen other people.” Saguru took a bite of curry, scrolling further in his messages, most of it advertisements and the occasional social media alert (he’d blame Kaito for convincing him to get some of those accounts, but admittedly several of them were Mel’s past influence despite Saguru’s habit of rarely using them). “There’s also one from the landlord. I sent him an estimate for when we’d be dropping off the keys, and he said not to worry about any leftover furniture as he’d take care of it.”

“That’s convenient.”

“He probably either intends to keep it as a perk for renting the flat or sell it himself, but I’m not going to complain.” If Saguru didn’t have to worry about the rest of the furniture, that just meant taking the donations away and mailing the rest of the boxes. Which actually meant they could take care of it today and have a day or so to relax at a hotel or something until their scheduled flight back. “What do you think of a trip to France?”

“What, like in the future?”

“I was thinking tomorrow. It’s not cheap, but we could take a train to Paris for the day if you wanted.”

Kaito gave a shove of his arms so he was upright to stare. “Seriously?”

Saguru rubbed the back of his head, feeling a little self-conscious at the sudden scrutiny. “Well, you did say that you found Paris romantic and I’m familiar enough with the city that an unplanned trip isn’t that big of a deal. We’d just have to be back in London in time for our flight...”

He found himself with a surprise lapful of grinning Kaito. “I love you,” Kaito said.

Saguru hugged him back, holding his takeaway container out of elbow range in one hand as he held Kaito with the other. “I love you too. I take it that’s a yes?”

“Saguru,” Kaito said, his eyes glinting the way they did when he was either very happy or plotting mischief, “I am one hundred percent onboard with romantic spontaneity.”

“Good,” Saguru said as words seemed to leave his brain in favor of all his mental capacity taking in Kaito’s happy face. Not for the first time, Saguru was struck by how attractive his boyfriend was.

“So. Would _France_ be a good place to seduce you?”

Saguru blushed to the tips of his ears. “ _Kaito._ ”

“Mm, that’s a yes, right?”

If Kaito kept looking at him like that, Saguru was going to break his own rule about not getting up to anything in the apartment. Regretfully, he pushed Kaito back so he could get a bit of breathing room and perspective as to why now was not the time or place. ...Mostly just the wrong place. “Save it until we’re in Paris.”

“One kiss?”

“...one kiss.”

“Mwah!” Kaito gave him an over-exaggerated kiss on the lips before sliding out of his lap. He dropped back down to eat half off the bed again.

“You know you could eat up here.”

“I could,” Kaito said. “Actually, if you sat on my feet, I could do sit-ups and eat whenever I was upright.”

“That sounds even more uncomfortable.”

“I have to get exercise in some way. I’m getting out of shape,” Kaito lamented. “It’s awful. I spent so much time keeping in shape before, but there’s nothing challenging anymore. So I just have to fit exercise in where I can.”

“During breakfast?” Saguru asked. He was more or less used to the fact that Kaito had trouble keeping still without something holding a good portion of his attention, but this was both a bit ridiculous, and a relatively new development of the past two weeks.

“Wherever I can fit it in.”

He handed Saguru his food and Saguru took it, giving Kaito counterweight on his legs so he could do crunches that should honestly make him not want to eat with how he kept using muscles around his stomach.

Kaito, of course, didn’t seem bothered at all. “I should take up parkour.”

The image of Kaito throwing himself off buildings in civilian wear had Saguru wincing. “Wouldn’t that draw attention?”

“So I’ll find a group to do it with. But really, it would satisfy my inner adrenaline junkie and keep me in shape.” Kaito did a few sit-ups, taking a bite of his leftovers. “It wouldn’t be all the time, but it seems fun.”

“You’re thirty-five.”

“So I have a few good years of it before I’ve pushed my body too far. I’ve been thinking it over and parkour seemed the better idea than going hang-gliding every other weekend. Cheaper too. I tried sports the last few months but...”

But none of them had kept Kaito’s interest, Saguru knew, though doing some gymnastics workouts every now and then had helped. “Please don’t do anything that could get you killed.”

“I wouldn’t. I know my limits. And the limits of an average person, so I won’t push too much.” Kaito did a few more sit-ups before pausing. “I bet I could take some pretty cool footage doing it though. Think Takumi or Shiemi would be interested?”

“If Takumi thought it would help him with his lacrosse, maybe. I think Shiemi is more interested in your sleight of hand than the athletic side of your tricks.”

“I’m a little sad that I probably won’t get to pass on some of my harder tricks...” Kaito sighed and apparently decided he’d done enough exercise for one morning because he wiggled his feet free to sit cross-legged. “I’m definitely going to have to write a book with how I did all my tricks and have that be a legacy.”

“Inside the family of course.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sure Takumi will appreciate that even if he never learns to do all of your tricks.” Like Kaito had appreciated his own father’s notes.

They finished their breakfast in companionable silence, Saguru’s mind half on plans to get to Paris and half on what was left to do. Besides the boxes, he still needed to get Mel’s forgotten gift to Mel’s mother...

It was a bit of a coward’s way out, but Saguru thought Mel would forgive him if he mailed it instead of meeting his mother-in-law face to face. He wanted to end this trip on a high note, not have old problems weighing him down. And this way she could be honest in her emotions instead of hiding them in front of Saguru.

“You alright?” Kaito asked, nudging Saguru with his elbow.

“Mm.” He shook off his discomfort, instead turning his mind toward perhaps visiting one of his favorite cafés in Paris. They had pastries Kaito would love. “I’m fine. I just remembered Mel’s box of gifts that needs taken care of.”

“Ah.” Kaito gathered up their empty containers. “Are we taking a side trip after the post office or...?”

“No, I will be mailing what I’m sending along... It’s probably for the best that way.”

“Okay,” Kaito said. He gave Saguru a kiss on the cheek. “You know them best. I’m going to shower real quick then we can start in on taking those boxes where they need to go.”

“Thank you, Kaito.”

“Anytime,” Kaito said with a wink and a parting wave.

***

There was a time, Saguru reflected as he followed Kaito aimlessly along Paris streets, when Saguru had been in Paris, contemplating Kid and feeling possessive of the thief. He’d called Kaito, been smug about it too like his emotions weren’t transparent, and gave him a warning about the French thief, Chat Noir. He’d never asked Kaito what he’d thought about that call, though perhaps the irritated tone one the other end of the phone line and repeated assertion that Kaito wasn’t Kid was answer enough for what Kaito felt back then. Here and now, the person Saguru had been wouldn’t have recognized the person he was now. But he’d probably understand how Saguru’s eyes were drawn more toward his boyfriend than the city streets around them.

Kaito, of course, didn’t seem able to keep still, flitting back and forth between street stalls and up to shop fronts with enthusiasm, occasionally practicing rusty French on the vendors. He always bounced back to Saguru’s side with an interesting thing he’d learned or to point out something of interest and frankly it was refreshing to see Kaito so enthusiastic. It had Saguru taking interest in things he wouldn’t have thought to notice let alone appreciate too.

“You know,” Kaito said, their hands linked together and swinging as they walked alongside the Seine, “when I was here with Aoko, we didn’t do anything like this, just walking around. We went to a bunch of tourist spots and looked up high rated restaurants and had most of the trip carefully planned out. Aoko likes structure like that, and me being, well, _me_ , I provided any spontaneity on the trip by interacting with our surroundings. But it was still controlled. I think I like this more.” He grinned at Saguru, sidelong. “Not that there’s anything wrong with carefully planned trips or tourist attractions. I just like seeing how people live. Of course I’m enjoying the company too.”

“Of course,” Saguru said, mock serious.

“If there’s any place you like here, we should go,” Kaito said, a bounce in his step.

Saguru thought about that long-ago phone call. “If it still exists, there’s a café I used to frequent in high school.”

“You came to France a lot as a teen?” Kaito asked.

“Often enough.” Saguru shrugged. “Mum has friends in Paris, and I’ve had quite a few cases that led me out of England over the years. A few of the times I left Japan was actually to come here because I was asked to look into some things. During one of those times I happened to hear about Chat Noir.”

“Huh.” Kaito stared off into the distance for a moment, thinking back. “Wait, that phone call where you gave some cryptic warning and got weirdly possessive about Kid.”

Saguru rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s what you remember of it.”

“Well what impression did you expect me to have back then?” Kaito said, amused. “I mean I hadn’t ever given you my phone number either, so you were kind of having a stalker moment, Saguru.”

“I took the time to warn you!” Saguru protested. “You would have gone in blind!”

“I’d have been fine,” Kaito said, confident in his skills as ever. Or maybe he was remembering with the same arrogance he’d had back then, thinking he could pull off anything with enough bravado and sleight of hand. “Chat Noir didn’t actually want to hurt anyone. She was just trying to right a wrong.”

Saguru paused. “You know I don’t think anyone ever figured out what happened with Chat Noir.”

“No, they didn’t.” Kaito grinned.

Saguru narrowed his eyes as Kaito’s seemed to sparkle with mischief. “You’re going to make me work for that story aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Kaito said, sing-song. “Either way, Chat Noir is a nice lady. We still send each other letters sometimes.”

“Of course you keep in touch.” What was Saguru expecting really?

“It pays to keep connections,” Kaito said. “So this café is someplace you went to when all that was going on?”

“It’s where I called you from,” Saguru said.

“Sap,” Kaito teased. “You want to visit there because it’s connected to a memory of me, don’t you.”

The blush on Saguru’s cheeks gave him away despite ignoring Kaito’s words.

“You do,” Kaito said, draping himself on Saguru’s shoulder. “Aww, you love me.”

“I’m dating you, so I would think it was obvious at this point,” Saguru said. Kaito just grinned wider and Saguru cracked, laughed. “Fine. Yes, I love you and want to go see if that café still exists because I’m feeling sentimental. Anything you wanted to see?”

“The Louvre,” Kaito said immediately. “I know it’s a tourist spot but one, it is one of the most famous museums of the world, and two, I now have a professional interest in it outside of my old night job. I didn’t have near the appreciation of museum work the last time I was here.”

“Done,” Saguru said. “We’ll grab something to eat at the café, or someplace close if it no longer exists, then head to the museum.”

“Are the two even close to each other?” Kaito asked curiously.

“No,” Saguru smiled, “but that’s part of the fun, getting from A to B, right?”

“We’re ducking into any store that looks fun and taking pictures to send to Takumi.”

***

“You know,” Kaito said later, “I always forget how small the Mona Lisa is. Like it’s built up so much but when you actually see the painting? Tiny compared to most famous portraits. I would not want to be in charge of the preservation for that either. Da Vinci was not the best with ensuring his works would actually be well preserved for the long run. Genius technique and skill or not, that’s really something that bothers me about his work.”

Saguru laughed. “That would bother you.”

“Hey, as a museum worker I totally feel sorry for the conservator that has to deal with things like that. That said, I have a much higher appreciation for their ceramics and pottery collections than I did the last time I was here.”

“Professional appreciation,” Saguru said with a nod. He gave Kaito a sidelong grin. “Although I noticed you eying the eagle brooch.”

“What can I say, old habits die hard.” The brooch had a nice sized garnet in it. Kaito had eyed several other gems in other exhibits too, but since he was retired, Saguru didn’t dwell on it. Kaito wasn’t going to be stealing anything these days. “Their security is pretty tight though. I am more than happy that I’m never going to try and take anything from there.” Kaito hummed as they meandered back toward their hotel. “We should come back sometime. There wasn’t nearly enough time to look at everything.”

“Of course. Perhaps a trip to London, then here, with Takumi along?” Takumi would like London, but he could appreciate Paris’s streets the same as Kaito did, taking in their unique storefronts and anything that caught the eye.

Kaito squeezed Saguru’s hand where their fingers were laced together. “Sounds fun. Ooh.” He stopped walking so fast that Saguru kept going a step or two past him until he was stopped by the tug of his wrist. Kaito’s eyes were riveted on a park across the street where a magician was doing tricks. “...Would it be rude to join in? It would probably be rude to join in.”

There were only a few people stopped to watch. Saguru saw Kaito’s hand twitch toward his pockets that he kept full of tricks even now. “How well could you incorporate yourself into his act without taking it over completely?”

“Mm...” Kaito tilted his head. “Depends on if he played along. My French probably isn’t good enough to get a conversation across...”

He fidgeted and Saguru gave him a little push. “Oh, go on. If you’re so worried about it, leave him any tips people hand out.”

“You’re the best,” Kaito said in a rush, untangling their hands to head directly over.

Saguru took his time following. The distance let him appreciate how Kaito seamlessly integrated himself into the group of watchers and waited just the right moment to add a complementary trick to the one the magician was already performing. The man, to his credit, paused for only a split second of surprise before rolling with it like it was all part of the original show.

In a matter of minutes it was much more spectacular than anything the original magician could have pulled off. And yet Kaito somehow managed to make it look like it was the street magician’s skill coming to the forefront. Saguru shook his head fondly as people started to gather, pulling out cell phones to watch Kaito got a juggling arc started between him and the magician. Only the objects being juggled kept mysteriously changing.

The street magician started laughing with the edge of incredulity when objects started changing color too, but he had a remarkably good stage presence in keeping himself together while being blindsided by so many surprises. The tricks escalated until Kaito dropped a smoke bomb and used the distraction to reappear at Saguru’s side.

When the smoke cleared, the other magician had his hat in his hands, quickly turning surprise into a theatrical bow. The crowd—because there was a crowd now—clapped and tossed money his way. A few tried to give some to Kaito too when the noticed where he’d vanished to, but he waved them off. Showing his skill in escaping and working crowds, he whisked him and Saguru away before anyone could pin them down to ask questions about the performance.

Two blocks later and Kaito broke down giggling into Saguru’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that!” he said after a moment. “But that was so much fun!”

“I think the crowd agreed with that,” Saguru said. “And I don’t think the magician was complaining with the results.”

“He was pretty skilled,” Kaito said cheerfully. “Not just anyone could keep a performance going like that. That’s probably the most fun I’ve had doing that kind of thing in a while.”

“Good.” Saguru looped an arm around Kaito’s waist, pleased when Kaito leaned into the touch as easy as breathing. “Dinner before heading back to the hotel?”

“Something romantic and French?” Kaito suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Saguru rolled his eyes but squeezed Kaito’s waist a bit tighter. “I’m sure we can manage that.”

“Because this is Paris.”

“Right.”

It wasn’t terribly funny, but they both laughed anyway. Everything was a little bit funny and great at the moment. Saguru was thirty-five and in love all over again and very glad in that moment to be alive.

***

Kaito stepped onto the balcony. Saguru was showering in the little hotel room he’d rented for them, and Kaito couldn’t stop smiling because it had been a fantastic day. His arm muscles were pleasantly stretched from his juggling show and his heart was light. They’d had a whirlwind, impulsive vacation day in France and it had honestly been everything Kaito could have hoped for, including getting to indulge in simple public affection like hand holding and flirting and even a few over-dramatic kisses that had Kaito blushing almost as much as Saguru. He just couldn’t do things like that in public in Japan and while it normally didn’t bother him too much, it was so nice to just... be for a bit here.

He held up his phone to snap a photo from the balcony; not a super photogenic location like some of the places they wandered today, but it was still France and that alone added to the interest of the shot. He’d send it to Takumi over the internet later. For now he took a moment to close his eyes and exist and feel happy.

Something landed next to him.

Kaito jumped half a meter to the left and banged his elbow into the railing. “Shit, ow, what?”

Ruby Jones crouched on the balcony railing looking way too amused. “I see retirement is treating you well,” she said in English, the shared language they both spoke best.

“Retirement is great,” Kaito said fervently, rubbing at his elbow. “Where the hell did you come from? I thought you lived in America.”

“I’m visiting relatives,” Jones said.

“Yes, but how the heck did you end up _here?_ ”

She grinned. “Someone saw your little show earlier and recorded it. Did you know you’re currently trending?”

Kaito blinked. That still didn’t really explain how she’d found his balcony when they could have been staying pretty much anywhere in Paris—or not at all—but okay. “Okay. Hi. How’s life been?”

“Pretty good. I have my routine and a good enough paycheck to take trips like this once a year. Can’t complain. Although it’s hell to keep in shape these days.”

“Ah, yeah, retirement and aging are hell on the body.”

Jones gave him a cool look. “Are you calling me old?”

Kaito put a hand on his heart. “Of course not, I’m talking about myself. You, a lady, are ageless.”

She laughed. “You’re just about as much of a flirt as I remember. Speaking of flirting...” She grinned. “How long have you been interested in men?”

“Almost as long as I’ve been interested in women,” Kaito said with a mirrored grin.

“Boyfriend or husband?”

“Boyfriend, but in a way that isn’t like I’m a teenager for goodness sake. We’re both serious about it, but marriage is a... complicated issue with us.” They hadn’t talked about marriage. It was too soon really. But also... well, between Mel’s memory and Kaito’s failed marriage, the topic was a bit of a loaded subject to touch upon. Kaito didn’t care one way or another, but maybe someday he’d bring the topic up to gauge how Saguru felt about it. Granted, they couldn’t marry in Japan anyway, even if it was a possibility in the UK.

“He’s cute. I take it it’s a romantic getaway?”

Kaito snorted. “The trip? Not really. Being here in Paris, yes.” And if she was here too long he’d make it clear that she was intruding on said romantic trip, but he could talk a little bit. Saguru liked long showers when he was relaxed enough to enjoy them. “Now that I’m retired, I have both the funds and time to actually take vacations. Shocking. I’m not even injured this time.”

Jones snickered. She had to know how much it cost to upkeep phantom thief gear and how easy it was to get hurt in the process. “I can’t say I ever regretted the thief life, but it is nice to come out the other side. And civilian life is treating you well?”

“I work in a museum, ironically enough. It’s quiet, I like my coworkers, and the job is fulfilling. What more do you need?” It would never be how he’d expected himself to end up but... “Okay, I admit I miss having an audience sometimes.”

“So you pull stuff like you did in that video to fulfill the need.”

“Exactly. It’s like you understand too well.” They shared a look. One ex-phantom-thief to another. “Not to be rude, it’s lovely to see you face to face after such a long time and such a scattered acquaintance, but I have a boyfriend to return to and a romantic evening to indulge in.”

“Of course, Kid.” Jones smirked. “You have fun.”

“Oh, believe me I plan to.” Kaito matched her smirk right back.

Jones stood up on the railing, reaching up toward the balcony above her. “To answer your earlier question,” she said positioning herself, “I saw you by chance from my window. I’m staying in a room two floors up and a bit over.”

“So entirely by luck.”

“Luck, fate, casual whims of the universe...” She shrugged and gave a hop to catch onto the balcony above them. “You take care.”

“Enjoy your visit with family,” Kaito said, giving a little wave.

Jones was up and climbing almost as fast as Kaito could have. Not bad for a lady almost two decades in retirement. Maybe it was just second nature for people like them to want to keep hard earned skills sharp and muscles strong. Behind him, the balcony door opened.

“Were you talking to someone?” Saguru asked, looking soft and rumpled in a robe with a towel draped over his shoulders. His hair was still dripping a bit. “I thought I heard voices.”

“An old kind of friend popped in for a visit, but she’s already gone.”

“Old friend?” Saguru frowned. “Do you have friends in Paris?”

Kaito smiled and tugged at a lock of Saguru’s wet hair. “Sometimes. I think she mostly wanted to congratulate me on my retirement. Well, that and be nosy, but that’s to be expected.”

Saguru nodded like of course any friend of Kaito’s would have a tendency to not mind their own business and have boundary issues as a given. “Wait, were they _on the balcony?_ ”

“My turn in the shower,” Kaito deflected.

“Kaito—was that one of your underground connections?”

“If I don’t say, you can’t feel conflicted over it!” Kaito said. He pressed a quick kiss to Saguru’s jaw as he danced past him into the hotel room. “I’ll be out in a tick and we can order in for dinner and make out like we’re sixteen again.”

“I wasn’t making out with people at sixteen.”

“Like we’re twenty then.”

Saguru snickered and Kaito slipped into the bathroom to take a very fast shower—he had all the time in the world to indulge in hygiene on some day he wasn’t in Paris with his boyfriend.

***

Later, much _much_ later to Kaito’s immense satisfaction, he curled up under the sheets with Saguru by his side, already halfway to sleep with his face mushed against Kaito’s collarbone. It was adorable. Kaito took a picture with his cell phone, one for his private photo collection. A lot of those photos were candid ones with Saguru missing most of his clothes, asleep, or otherwise unaware and open. He’d gotten a few of them this trip, like one of Saguru talking to his aunt and cousin and grinning openly at whatever they were talking about. Saguru looking at a street sign. Saguru ordering lunch. ...Saguru changing, from multiple angles... Kaito was glad that he had his phone locked or there could possibly be some potential issues if someone got ahold of it. Still. He took another with himself in the photo too, grinning at the camera honestly. He wanted proof of these little happy moments. Needed them for when his head wasn’t in the right place to help get him back to normal.

He flipped back to the other folders with photos from the trip and started attaching his favorites to an email to send to people back home. _“Paris is looking pretty nice this time of year”_ was all he wrote for a caption. He... wasn’t going to include Aoko for this particular photo collection. There was starting to rebuild their friendship by sharing parts of their lives, and there was blatantly poking at old bruises, and that would be a bit too close to the latter.

The message sent and Kaito felt warm inside. He’d gotten a message from Jones with a photo of him kissing Saguru on the balcony. He’d saved that photo too. He sent back one of a stray cat he’d found when they were eating lunch. There were a few other emails on his phone, from his mother and one from Kudo that sounded like another of the puzzles they’d been sending back and forth from the subject line.

Saguru patted his arm rubbing his nose into Kaito’s shoulder. “You should sleep,” he mumbled.

“Just sending a few emails.”

“ _Kai_ to,” Saguru grumbled, curling around him. He was a bit bigger and heavier than Kaito and it was definitely noticeable when he did things like that. Saguru rested his chin on Kaito’s chest where he was currently squishing most of the air from him. “I know you act like you still never sleep, but we have an early trip back to London to catch our flight home and it is very late.”

Kaito flushed; he hoped he’d never stop reacting like this to having Saguru holding him down and being bossy. Granted his brain tended to skew it more toward much less platonic moments of this sort of thing. Gah. Bad brain.

Saguru snorted. “Your brain is still in the gutter isn’t it?”

“Okay, I’m still recovering from years of repressing and you are still naked and less than an hour ago you were—”

Saguru cut him off with a kiss. “Shush. Sleep. Or I will take your phone and toss it wherever you threw my shirt.”

Kaito pouted, but Saguru merely raised one eyebrow at him, eyelids still droopy with sleep. He was annoyingly good at ignoring Kaito’s pouts. But that was something Kaito liked about him whether he’d admit it or not. Kaito liked people who didn’t let themselves be pushed around and stood by lines that they drew. And at the moment it seemed that getting rest was one of those lines. “Oh, fine,” he said with a sigh. He set his phone back on the charger, having to stretch and twist to get it with Saguru weighing him down. “Better?”

“Yes.” He got another kiss as a reward.

Kaito wound his fingers in Saguru’s hair and kept the kiss going. “Mm, sleep now?” he said after he’d kissed Saguru thoroughly.

“...sleep. Right.” Saguru stared at his lips. Kaito grinned and got a light smack on the arm for it. “Stop being distracting.”

“Stop letting yourself get distracted,” Kaito said in return. Saguru rolled off him and Kaito curled around his back, happy enough to be the big spoon this time. “Okay, now we can sleep.”

“Goodnight, Kaito.”

“Night. ....Guru.”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m smothering you with a pillow,” Saguru said, grabbing one of the extra ones to hold over his shoulder in a very pathetic attempt at suffocation. “How many times do I have to say that only my cousin is allowed to call me that!”

Kaito laughed, warding off the pillow with one hand.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” Saguru threatened.

Kaito wrapped around him with arms and legs. “No, you’re trapped.”

“We are grown adults, this is ridiculous!” Saguru said, squirming, but he was laughing too. Kaito squeezed him tight until they were both breathless from laughter and exhaustion.

“Goodnight for real?” Kaito whispered against Saguru’s neck, arms and legs going loose into a cuddle.

Saguru’s hand found his by their hips and pulled it across his chest, fingers linked. “Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

***

Morning was a rush of early alarms and hastily gathered clothing. Saguru wanted to laugh at Kaito’s caffeine-deprived pinched expression when the alarm went off, but he wasn’t much more awake. And he definitely empathized with the desire to stay up later last night. Regardless, it was morning and it was time to go.

“Can we get coffee on the way? Or tea?” Kaito asked, barely bothering to look presentable though it would take him a few seconds to do so if he wanted to.

Saguru made a point to straighten Kaito’s shirt for him before he finished buttoning his own. “Something quick, yes. Nothing so nice as sitting at a café.”

“Ugh.” Kaito rubbed at his eyes. “Pity they don’t have hot tea in vending machines here.”

“There’s still convenience store coffee.”

“Saguru, we’re in France, I’m not getting shitty coffee from a convenience store in France.”

“No? It has all the caffeine you require.”

“And none of the taste. I can have bad coffee any day.”

Saguru snorted. “Come on. If we’re quick we should be able to get drinks and something to eat on the way.”

“Thank you.” Kaito gathered their bags in a quick sweep of the room, catching anything they’d missed in their scramble to get ready to go. “Caffeinate, eat, catch our train to London, get to the airport, take a horrifying amount of time to get home.”

“At least there’s plenty of time to nap during the flight and layovers?” Saguru offered.

“Very true. C’mon, I want a croissant. I should have a proper French croissant. You should have one too.”

“And if I don’t want a croissant?” Saguru asked, following Kaito out of the hotel room.

“Well it’s not like you’re short on other options, but why wouldn’t you want a croissant?” Kaito tossed a hand up, compensating lack of energy with dramatics.

“I have nothing against croissants, I just wondered what you would suggest otherwise.”

“Haven’t the foggiest. Right now my brain’s stuck on croissants and all other French baked goods have fled out of my vocabulary.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you. Now come _on_ , we’re wasting time we could be caffeinating.”

***

They were almost to the station back to London when Kaito stopped, croissant and coffee in one hand and bag in the other. “Saguru, we forgot something.”

“What?” Saguru glanced at their bags and all they’d packed, mind coming up blank for what might be missing.

“Omiyage.”

“What?” It took a second for Saguru’s brain to switch back to Japanese since they’d been using English almost the whole trip. “Wait, shit, you’re right. Souvenirs.”

“They’ll expect something from France since I took pictures here.”

“And we never got anything in London.”

“Yeah, but we can get something at the airport, but we have....” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes to get something and get on the train to London.”

They looked around but most businesses weren’t open just yet unless they dealt with morning crowds like cafés. “So long as it’s something from France, it doesn’t have to be a _nice_ something,” Saguru said.

“Convenience store snacks and candy?” Kaito said.

Saguru pulled out his phone and typed rapidly. “There’s one a block out of our way.”

“Thank goodness for technology.”

***

Stepping off the plane into Japan again was a moment of déjà vu. He’d done the same thing so many times in his life, stepping into Narita airport with its familiar architecture and Japanese signs. The annoying process of walking through quarantine and immigration checks. And he could walk to the baggage claim in his sleep regardless of which gate he came in at by this point. Thankfully he’d actually managed to get some rest on the last flight so he didn’t have to do that.

What set this time apart from the others was Kaito at his side, yawning and just inside Saguru’s personal bubble enough that their shoulders brushed, though not enough to draw attention. It was a world of difference to how they’d started out the first flight from London. Saguru decided the world could just learn to live with a bit of impropriety.

Kaito blinked at him when Saguru caught his hand and tugged him to get their bags, but he linked their fingers like he’d only been waiting for Saguru to reach out. Like he didn’t mind how it could draw stares or displeasure.

For the first time, Saguru wondered if the lack of obvious affection in public in Japan had been for his sake, not because Kaito didn’t want it.

“At least your bags aren’t hard to spot,” Saguru said.

Kaito’s bright blue bags were practically lit up against the myriad of nondescript black, brown, and navy travel cases. Saguru’s merely had green ribbons tied to the handles to make them stand out.

“I should text Mum,” Saguru said while Kaito retrieved their luggage. “She’s probably already seen the notice on the travel board that we arrived but—”

“I think she definitely has,” Kaito said nodding in the direction of the arrival lobby. Just past the customs inspection counters was Mum, a sparkly ‘Welcome Home’ sign made out of poster board and what had to be an entire container of glitter held up in the air. Surprisingly, Takumi was at her side. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t holding a sign and was a few steps away from Mum like he was worried he’d catch the glittery mess. Knowing glitter, it was unavoidable.

They made their way through customs as quickly as they were able, and as soon as they were clear, Takumi was at Kaito’s side. “Okay, so I saw the pictures you sent but you have to tell me everything and what you did and if you ate anything cool and Shiemi wants to know how you ended up in France.”

Kaito snickered and pulled Takumi into a hug. Takumi flailed with all the embarrassment of a teenager having affection poured on him in public.

“Tou-san!” Takumi complained. He was smiling though.

“Not even a welcome back?” Kaito asked, ruffling Takumi’s hair until it was a mess.

“Ugh, hi, glad your plane didn’t crash into the ocean. How was your trip?”

Saguru left them to it and gave Mum a hug, careful not to brush up against the glitter monstrosity. “Did you make that intending to shed glitter everywhere or...?”

“Actually, Takumi and Shiemi made it,” Mum said, eyes sparkling with humor. “I, of course, was willing to track glitter everywhere to use it. Flight in okay?”

“It went fine except for the layover in Hong Kong. We almost missed our connection.”

“Because of your bad luck,” Kaito said. “A child went missing and we ended up walking almost the whole airport looking for them. Thankfully it was _not_ a kidnapping but that was a mess. We only made our flight because they held the plane an extra ten minutes for us to get there from the other end of the airport.”

“But the child was reunited with their family and no one was harmed so it’s all well,” Saguru said. “I slept the whole last part of the trip from the moment we took off until we landed though.”

“Anything we missed while we were gone?” Kaito asked Takumi.

Takumi shrugged. “Nothing big. Had lacrosse practice. Babysat the Kudo girls. Aaaand maybe kind of set up a date for Shiemi.” He grinned. “It went okay so she didn’t kill me.”

“Ooh, spill! Blind date or what?” Kaito leaned on Takumi’s shoulder. “Because she didn’t mention this at all in her emails.”

“They’d met a few times but didn’t realize they both liked girls. Only Amari-chan mentioned she thought Shiemi was cute—wait, uh, Amari-chan is on the girl’s lacrosse team for clarification—and I _know_ Shiemi has checked out the girl’s team practice before so...”

“So you played matchmaker,” Kaito finished.

“Yup. They’re going on their second date on Tuesday. Either this will go great or I will have to apologize to both of them when it erupts in flames, but either way it’s nice to see Shiemi be happy.” Takumi smiled softly, affection for Shiemi shining through.

“I think it’s cute,” Mum whispered to Saguru. “Though if anyone set you up at that age you would have been mortified.”

“I was just settling into the realization I was gay at that age so, yes, mortified would be about what I would feel. Along with horror and probably fear,” Saguru said drily. Thankfully Shiemi wasn’t the type to let public opinion shame her; if she ever did get outed before she was ready, she wouldn’t let it upset her life.

“Oh yeah,” Kaito said as they all meandered toward the exit in their huddle of baggage and people. “Takumi, what would you feel about moving?”

“You’re asking now at the airport?” Saguru said with a sigh. “We haven’t even started looking at anything. We’ve only just brought it up.”

“No time like the present to introduce the idea,” Kaito said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “So?”

“Wait, like moving out of the apartment?” Takumi glanced at Saguru. “And moving into someplace with Hakuba-sensei?”

Mum smacked Saguru’s arm with so much giddy enthusiasm one would think Kaito had just proposed he marry Saguru in front of her. Saguru rolled his eyes. “Yes, move in together. Honestly, we’re just talking about the possibility at the moment and if it would be uncomfortable to you, we don’t have to. The arrangement we have now has been fine.”

“But you’d like to,” Takumi said, seeing through to the heart of the matter.

“Well we’re practically cohabiting right now already,” Kaito offered. “Just with a few extra doors between us. You’d get your own room of course.”

“If I didn’t I’d be pretty annoyed,” Takumi said, “since I live with you a third of the time.” He was silent for a while as they passed a group of tourists trying to find somewhere, a map tugged back and forth between hands as they argued in what Saguru thought was some Slavic language, though he didn’t have the ear for what. “It is a little weird,” Takumi said finally just when Saguru was starting to worry that he really did hate the idea. “But that doesn’t make it a bad weird. All of this last year has been a little weird, but in a good way. Mostly. Like I wouldn’t want to be around you guys being super romantic or anything because that would be weird in a bad way, but I don’t mind how you usually are and it wouldn’t be too different from how things are now. Just a new space. The new space part would be weird though.”

“You know I never thought I’d spend almost a decade living in that shoe-box apartment,” Kaito mused. “It’s home. But honestly I would not mind something bigger. With thicker walls. Takumi, we’d both get bigger bedrooms.”

“That is a selling point,” Takumi said. “Are you thinking house big or larger apartment big?”

“We are not doing logistics in an airport,” Saguru said.

“I’ll have to think on that,” Kaito said, ignoring him completely. “It depends on whether I want a workroom space or not and how much room Saguru needs. Or if I want to move my doves from Kaa-san’s place. Hmm. Two adult incomes leave more possibilities, but honestly despite living in a cheap apartment for years, I’m not all that rich. Committing crime out of your own pocket and not keeping the spoils is actually a really expensive hobby. Don’t recommend that.”

Saguru sighed.  Mum giggled at him.

“It has to be close enough to school,” Takumi said. “And I want proper furniture in my room.”

“Yeah, location is probably going to narrow things down a lot. And might be what takes the longest finding someplace.” Kaito’s hands moved like they wanted something to fiddle with, but he’d taken his magic props off his person for the plane ride. “Preferably ground floor or no higher than one set of stairs...”

“It has to be a good neighborhood or Kaa-san won’t let me visit.”

“Well obviously.”

“I take it we’ve decided that this is happening instead of hypothetically happening,” Saguru said.

“Duh,” Kaito and Takumi said in stereo. Kaito turned to him. “We have Takumi’s blessing and we definitely have your Mum’s with how she’s smiling. And we want to be domestic with each other, so yep, it’s happening. But,” Kaito added holding up a finger, “probably not for a while yet. Logistics.”

“And I have to be there picking the place since I’m going to live there too,” Takumi said. “I call veto rights if it’s awful.”

“We all get a say,” Kaito said.

Saguru looked between their equally serious expressions and had to laugh. “Okay, yes, we’re going to make this happen then.”

“Wonderful,” Mum cut in. “And now that that’s decided, I’m taking you out to lunch to celebrate and you can tell us all about your trip. How exactly did you end up in Paris anyway?”

Saguru followed them out the building as Kaito enthusiastically started up a story about the various mishaps with theft-related crimes they’d brushed into and how everyone on the police force still seemed to know Saguru’s face and name, chiming in when the moment called for it. In front of him Mum still had the glittery sign shedding all over Kaito’s bright blue luggage as they walked shoulder to shoulder, Takumi tagging along a step behind. He had his phone out, texting Shiemi from the look of it, and listening with the rest of his attention. The air was heavy with the threat of spring rain, as familiar as the muggy springs in London. London had been home, but this... This was home too, as much for the people as the place.

Ahead, Kaito tipped his head to the side to include Saguru, holding out his free hand.

Saguru took it. Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They use the world "Love" like 20 times with each other T_T It is good. <3 Happy Spring, guys.


End file.
